The Abyss
by tuckp3
Summary: despite their wealth of history and genuine love for each other, missteps and angst fuel the disintegration of a marriage and a seemingly irreconcilable fall into an emotional abyss. house/cuddy. au. slight spoilers for college through season two.
1. Prologue

**A/N: **I would like to thank my beta, MGD. I started this fic in the Summer of 2009 and it took me several months to complete; she was there from the beginning to the end. She's was an amazing help and I really appreciated her support and dedication to helping me finish this piece. As this was part of the House Big Bang Round 3 challenge, there is artwork to boot! Thanks to both of the artists, sadpie and severuslovesme, I hope the work does justice to the high expectations set by the magnificent results of their time and creativity. You can check out their art by searching house_bigbang on livejournal and then clicking the tag 'author: tuckp3'.

**Disclaimer: **House & Co. belong to Fox & Co.

* * *

_**November 1989**_

The brilliant white light of winter fought hard to push its way through the lone window in the bedroom of the small attic apartment. It was fairly early; the radiator had just hissed and clanked its way on for the day, emitting unneeded warmth into a room that already sweltered with heat. Though it was uncomfortably humid inside, Lisa knew that outside it was bitterly cold - as are most Boston winters. Just the thought of that chill made her shiver involuntarily as she idly wondered how any settler that had suffered through one winter here had not packed up the colony and relocated at the first signs of thaw.

She had been awake for half and our and now laid semi-propped up on a mound of pillows stroking her fingers through her husband's curly brown hair. It still felt weird to even think that in her mind. Husband.

They had only been officially married for two days, but he had proposed a month ago. They had been sitting in a coffee shop in Cambridge submerged in their studies or more accurately she had been submerged in her studies. He had been carrying around the ring for three days and finally giving up on waiting for the perfect moment he pulled it out of his pocket and placed it in the middle of her organic chemistry textbook proclaiming that if she could figure out how to put the three band puzzle ring back together that he would marry her. Her gaze flickered between the book and his face and back, finally looking up from the silver bands and staring at him dumbfounded. She could see from the way that his body was tensed and leaned slightly towards her that he was serious.

She picked up the rings - the metal felt cool and hard in her hands - and fiddled with them. It awed her how they were able to stay connected to one another and still be so apart. Solving the puzzle on her third try, she was surprised when Greg grabbed the ring from her demanding to know how she did that. She looked at him questioningly and laughed. It was obvious that he really had not known how to put it back together. Smiling at the thought of him unsuccessfully attempting a task, she leaned forward clasped her hands around his cheeks and kissed him softly. Biting his lower lip before pulling back to present her left hand to him. He took her hand in his and slid the ring into place tracing over the silver bands with his thumb before twining their fingers together.

He gifted her with a huge smile before promptly embarrassing her by jumping out of his seat and loudly declaring to the coffee shop that she had just agreed to be his wife. The announcement was met with applause, well wishes and a complimentary cupcake. They had gone to the courthouse the next day to get a license and planned to have the ceremony performed when he came back over the Thanksgiving holidays.

Now, his head was resting on her stomach as his warm breath tickled across the top of her abdomen. They were covered by thin cotton sheets that he had managed to tangle around his waist and legs. Though it was often a source of annoyance, she loved that he was such a sound sleeper. It gave her these early morning moments where she could just watch him – boyishly calm and innocent in his slumber.

An hour later, she felt his body shift and his hands slid their way under her body and down her back; his fingertips caressing her skin and tracing along her spine. Before tilting his head up to greet her, he placed a soft trail of kisses along her stomach and the bottom curves of her breasts. When he turned his head, he blinked up at her, one eye closed against the light and a slightly goofy grin on his face.

'Good morning, Mr. Cuddy,' she teased smiling as she feathered her fingers through the hair above his forehead.

He playfully scoffed at her, "That's Dr. Cuddy to you, Mrs. House."

She rolled her eyes at him; her lips pursed in thought. "I can't believe we actually got married. It's . . ." she trailed off picking up his left hand and toying with the band there.

His ring was a solid silver band with another silver band around the center that spun around the base ring. When they were in the ring shop, as soon as she spotted it she knew it would be perfect for him. He constantly fidgeted needing something to do with his hands, and now he could just spin his wedding ring.

"It's the smartest thing you've ever done – snagging the most desirable bachelor on the entire eastern seaboard," he suggested somewhat smugly.

She shot him a cutting look, "You haven't been a bachelor for over four years now."

"Now, now, my dear, there is no need to get your panties in a bunch," he chided before he pushed himself up on his elbows and looked down at her seriously, "It is actually the smartest thing that I've ever done."

He idly traced his fingertips over her collarbone as she stared up at him. A smile lightened her face before she placed her hands around his neck pulling him down into an intense kiss and rolling him onto his back so that she could straddle him. He looked up at her. Her body backlit; her hair mussed from sleep and their activity last night. She was the most beautiful thing that he had ever seen and he could not understand how he could have gotten so lucky. It was his last coherent thought as his fingers flexed at her waist, his eyes tracking her as she leaned into him and claimed his mouth with her own.


	2. Chapter 1

_**October 1990**_

They had been married almost a year, and Lisa could count on one hand the number of weeks that they had spent together. Every single one had been in Boston since she had less time off from school than Greg did from his residency. She had not told him about the break that she had over the Columbus Day holiday. Instead, she opted to surprise him.

Getting an early start, she caught a bus at six o'clock in the morning to avoid the crowds which packed the Chinatown busses that connected the major cities along the eastern seaboard. The first half of the ride was uneventful, but things picked up when she got off in New York City to switch to a Baltimore bound bus. First, there was the press of people trying to get tickets that almost broke out into a fist fight and then once the bus was on the road a chicken (a real live actual clucking chicken) got loose and rushed up and down the aisle. She had not been able to get any rest and a mild case of motion sickness kept her from doing any studying.

It would have been more comfortable and certainly faster to fly, but they just did not have the money. Unfortunately, she was presently somewhat estranged from her parents and could not ask for their help. Though her parents liked Greg - they saw how much he loved her and how happy he made her – once they got over the initial shock, they had not been pleased when she told them about her marriage. Despite the fact that they had been in a relationship for four years, they felt that she was too young to get married, particularly to someone so rough around the edges and so much older.

Since then, they were at a stand-off and gave her the silent treatment for several months afterward. During that time, her only contact with her family had been through her sister. Eventually her mother came around and was soon followed by her father. Though their relationship was slowly finding its way back to its previous footing, they made it clear that they would no longer provide her with any financial support; if she was grown up enough to decide to get married, then she was old enough to pay her own bills.

* * *

Eight hours later the bus pulled into Baltimore's Chinatown. The trip to the hospital from the bus drop off was not far via public transportation and let her off a couple of blocks away. She walked towards the familiar building, adjusting her backpack on her shoulder as entered the hospital, and made her way up to the seventh floor. Leaning back against the elevator wall, she closed her eyes as she listened to the dings. When the doors slid open, she stepped out making her way to the nurses' station.

"Hey Mary," she greeted with a smile.

The nurse behind the counter looked up from the charts that she was writing in and dropped her pen. "Lisa!" She exclaimed, hopping out of her seat and rushing around the desk.

"This is such a surprise!" Mary proclaimed hugging the young girl in front of her – she had had a soft spot for Lisa since the first time Greg introduced them about three years ago. "I know that it's not new, but congratulations on the marriage," she continued, keeping her hands on Lisa's shoulders as she leaned back and looked down at her. "Greg is finishing up his rounds, so he'll probably be back here pretty soon," Mary informed her on the whereabouts of her husband.

"Thank you," Lisa smiled, "I can't believe that it's been so long since I've been here." She ran her hand through her wind-whipped hair. "Thank god that he's almost done. I'm so exhausted. I had to be up before six this morning, and I've been traveling ever since. How are you, by the way? And your son Michael? He's in college now, right?" Lisa enquired in a rapid succession of questions.

"I'm doing alright. Did you know that I'm retiring at the beginning of next year?" Mary asked pausing as she relayed the news.

"Really? Greg never mentioned it. I'll certainly miss seeing you when I come down," Lisa replied placing her hand on Mary's arm and giving a gentle squeeze.

"I'll miss you, too. Don't worry. We'll keep in touch." Mary said covering Lisa's hand with her own. "The two of you are like my own kids; I can't imagine not knowing what's happening with you. Speaking of kids, Michael is at the University of Maryland. He absolutely loves it. Never has time to . . ." she was cut off by Greg's voice.

"Lisa?" Greg questioned stopping in his tracks as he rounded the corner by the nurses' station due to this unexpected sight.

"Greg!" Lisa responded looking over Mary's shoulder and catching his eye. A smile lit up her face as he made his way over to them and pulled her into an embrace.

"Are you really here? Mary pinch me 'cause I have to be hallucinating," he smiled squeezing Lisa. Then, he yelped when he felt a well-placed pinch on his right ass cheek.

"Whoa!" he jumped, reaching back a hand to protect his butt. While Lisa laughed, Mary winked at him before she returned to her seat behind the nurses' station. "Wow, I didn't know you were such a cougar, but I'm sort of taken right now," he winked back before he leaned in to properly kiss Lisa.

Lisa kissed him back enthusiastically but pulled away from the kiss before it grew too heated. Leaning back to look up at him, she said, "Mary said that you were almost finished with rounds. Can we head out, or do you still have stuff to do?"

Greg looked down at his watch, "It's a quarter 'til three, and I'm on the clock until then. I still have some charting to finish. Technically, I can't leave until Lauren gets here. Come sit with me until she arrives, and we can go then."

"Okay," Lisa replied rubbing her thumb across his knuckles before letting his hand go. He made his way behind the desk to gather the files that he needed. She adjusted her backpack as he put his hand on her shoulder leading her to the break room.

While he quickly went through his charts, she made herself a cup of coffee. Standing at the window, she blew on the hot liquid to cool it and stared down at the people walking around below. She was lost in thought about how different their lives were – how this was his everyday view and it was so different from her own – when she heard the break room door open. She looked up to see Lauren walk in juggling a couple of books and a large bag.

"Need some help with that?" she offered smirking at the stunned look that she received.

"Oh, my god! Lisa, what are you doing here?" Lauren asked dumping her stuff on the table and as she made her way across the room to wrap her arms around the other girl. "I can't believe that it's been so long! And I really can't believe you married this idiot!" she said stepping back from their embrace to playfully knock Greg upside his head.

"Hey!" Greg groused shrugging away from her hand, "You're just jealous 'cause you can't have me."

"Yeah, right," Lauren rolled her eyes, "What brings you here? How long are you here for?" she asked, her attention back on Lisa.

"I just came down to surprise Greg," Lisa said running her free hand lightly through his hair, "I had a free long weekend, so I just hopped on the Chinatown bus. And here I am. I'd love to get together if you have any free time."

"I actually have this Saturday off. Since you showed up though, I figure that as is the duty of any best friend I'll martyr myself and see if Greg wants to trade out his Saturday shift for my Monday shift," she suggested lifting her eyebrow at Greg.

"Sure," he replied sincerely, happy that Lauren offered instead of making him ask. He had known her since they were undergrads. She graduated second in their class after him, and they kept in touch throughout med school. She had gone away to Harvard. He was really happy that they met up again during residency. They were both only children and saw the other as the sibling that they wished they had had. Lisa and she hit it off immediately. Both were surprised that there was another female in the world that could put up with Greg, and they shared stories about him and the professors at Haa-vard (as they liked to joke with the Harvard 'a').

"Thanks, Lauren," Lisa said. "I hadn't even thought about what I'd do if he had to work the whole weekend," she admitted.

"Consider it a belated wedding gift," Lauren returned heading over to grab a cup of coffee,

"Greg, I'm gonna go change into my scrubs, then you can brief me." She said heading towards the door, "Lisa, I'll call you this weekend, and we can set something up."

Lisa and Greg both nodded in reply. He scribbled some notes on his last chart and put it on top of the pile before he turned and pulled Lisa to him. She sat her coffee on the table as he wrapped his arms around her waist. He looked up at her before he spoke, "So, you missed my charm and stunning good looks so much that you hopped on a bus and came halfway down the seaboard to bask in my presence?" he teased.

"Yep. That sounds about right," she replied, making a face at him before she cupped his face in her hands and leaned down guiding him into a kiss, "I missed you a lot."

"Mmm. . . I know, I know – but I'll be done soon. Hopefully, this next leg we'll be able to do in the same city," he murmured against her lips.

"Yeah," she pulled back nodding her head in agreement before picking up her bag, "I'm going to head downstairs and get some air. I'll meet you out front."

* * *

They grabbed some food at a diner a couple of blocks from the hospital before making their way back to his apartment. Lisa was exhausted by the time they made it inside. She dropped her bag by the door and made her way into the bedroom flopping down on the bed.

Greg detoured to the kitchen putting the food in the fridge and then followed her to the bedroom. He leaned against the doorway for a few minutes looking at Lisa sprawled across the mattress; her hair was spread across the pillows while her feet hung off the edge. He stepped towards her grasping her ankles to remove her shoes. She grunted in relief when he tossed the second one to the floor. Then, he climbed onto the bed, straddled her back supporting his weight on his knees, leaned over her and massaged her shoulders and neck.

Lisa slightly lifted her shoulders arching up into his hands. She emitted her thanks in a muffled sigh against the pillow. Greg continued to massage her for several minutes. His hands eventually slowed and rubbed down her back and under the hem of her shirt, before he moved off of her and settled along her side. He pressed a few kisses along the nape of her neck and pulled her flush against him to cuddle. She shifted in his embrace, draping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him into a light kiss before snuggling into his chest. Both exhausted- her from her day of travel and him from his long hours at the hospital- they fell into a contented sleep.

* * *

_**November 1990**_

Lisa tripped over the object laying on the welcome mat in front her apartment. She landed on her knees and the bag in her hands dropped, the contents spilling across the entrance way.

"Damn it!" she cursed aloud shifting to sit on her bottom. Bringing her hands up to her eyes, she tried keep the tears from falling. It had been a long and horrible day that started with an irate patient, who verbally attacked her during rounds, a reprimand from her superior, and delays on the T, which doubled the length of her commute home. Not to mention, she was extremely frustrated that she had not heard from Greg.

Their anniversaries in the past were never big deals – well he had not made a big deal of them– but they always did something to acknowledge them. This was different. It was their first anniversary as a married couple. When she woke up that morning, the first thing she had done was call his apartment. She was disappointed he did not pick up figuring that he was probably still at work or on his way home. As the day went on, she still did not hear from him and had not had time to attempt to reach him again. Eventually she realized that he had simply forgotten what today was.

She sat on the doormat for a few minutes contemplating her day before she grabbed her groceries putting them back in the bag. Finally, she turned to see what she had tripped over. Her eyebrows rose in confusion at the ream of paper that sat on her doorstep. Sighing, she picked it up and tucked it under her arm thinking that someone must have meant it for her next door neighbor who was getting his master's in creative writing. She would leave it for him with a note on her way in tomorrow.

Unlocking the door to the apartment, she entered flipping on the lights in the hall and living room. As she loosened the scarf around her neck, she kicked the door closed. After removing her gear and boots, she took the bag into the kitchen. She screamed, stopping in her tracks startled when a paper plane came floating towards her.

Whirling around, her arms came up in a defensive stance ready to attack whoever was in her home as the bag once again fell to the ground. She was met by familiar blue eyes and a smirk. Greg leaned in the living room archway, his legs crossed at the ankles, his arms crossed at his chest, and his mouth twisted into a smile.

"You idiot!" Lisa screamed lunging at him. Her balled fists pounded on his arms and neck several times before he caught her wrists and stymied her actions.

"Woah, Lisa, calm down. I thought you'd be happy to see me," he said pinning her arms between them and tugging her into an embrace.

She lifted her head giving him a dirty look. Then, she leaned her face into the crook of his neck and bit him hard.

"Ow!" he yelled releasing her, "What the hell, Lisa?" He took a step back from her and rubbed the spot where she bit him. She did not respond; her only action a narrowing of her eyes at him before turning away to pick up her purchases from the floor and making her way to the kitchen.

Greg stood rooted to his spot looking after her not quite sure what to do. He obviously did not think this out well; in hindsight it probably wasn't a good idea to sneak into the home of a woman who lived alone. He was bound to get the reaction that he got. Rubbing a hand through his hair, he made his way towards the kitchen cringing each time a cabinet slammed shut or a dish banged against a counter.

Lisa was filling a bowl with ice cream when Greg walked into the kitchen. She was still furious with him for scaring her and for not calling all day. In retrospect, it was really sweet of him to surprise her with a visit on their anniversary. The corner of her mouth lifted slightly at the thought, but for a genius he could be incredibly stupid.

She picked up her bowl and turned around leaning back against the counter. He watched her warily from the other side of the room before tentatively stepping towards her. Pulling his arm from behind his back, he revealed a tiny bunch of paper flowers.

"Happy Anniversary," he spoke softly, "I looked it up, and the first anniversary is the paper anniversary..." he trailed off searching her eyes and waiting on some hint of response.

She stared at him. A spoonful of ice cream halted in front of her mouth as he lifted the bouquet. Then, she dropped the spoon into the bowl with a clank as he continued to speak. God, he made it hard to stay angry at him, she thought as she set the bowl to the side. Suddenly, she grabbed him by the ears pulling him down into a kiss.

"Happy Anniversary," she mumbled against his lips, "And if I ever find you in my locked apartment or my locked anything, I'm going to cut off your balls."

* * *

_**December 1990**_

Greg heard the phone ringing through the locked door of his apartment. He quickly turned the key pushing the door open. Tossing his stuff to the ground, he kicked the door shut and hurried to answer the phone.

He grabbed the receiver up mid-ring and greeted a little breathlessly, "Hello."

"Greg?" Lisa questioned.

"It's me. Give me a sec," he put the phone down and shrugged out of his rain gear. Throwing it on one of the chairs around his dining table, he picked up the phone and sat down on the couch. Once he was comfortable, he returned to their conversation, "I'm back. I just got home. It's raining here in Baltimore."

"It was actually really nice here today. Well, as nice as a December day can be in Boston," she chuckled over the line.

"So, basically your limbs froze after five minutes instead of two," He smiled, "How are your classes going?" He ran his hands through his hair settling back onto the couch.

"Same as always. I'm really swamped and tired," she sighed. "And you?"

"It's going," he answered not offering more.

She had not expected more of an explanation from him; he rarely talked to her about his work unless he wanted to bounce ideas off of her. Picking up the conversation, she continued, "So, I've been thinking that instead of doing another internship this summer that I'd come spend the time with you and study for the USMLE's." There was silence on his end, so she asked a little hesitantly, "What do you think?" She twirled the phone cord around her index finger.

"Seriously?" he inquired a little shocked that she was not planning on adding more to her already stellar resume.

"Yes. I miss being with you. Besides, I feel like I already have enough experience to take the time off. Well, not really take it off, but you can help me study since you aced the test already," she responded smirking at his obvious surprise.

"Of course, I'll help you study. I actually wanted to talk to you about this since I need to start making inquiries soon for this summer. I'm really interested in an internship at Presbyterian in New York. I thought that I also might try to do something at Mass General, so I could be out there with you. If neither of those comes through, I've tentatively lined up a gig in the nephrology department here," he relayed.

"What's the internship at Presbyterian?" She asked curious why he had not mentioned it before.

"I just heard about it this week. Their infectious disease department is doing a study in conjunction with Columbia and Cornell on the new immigrant populations coming into New York. It looks like there will be several opportunities to see many diseases that I wouldn't see unless I travelled the globe," he told her excitedly. His free hand animatedly moved as he talked.

She could hear the excitement in his voice and couldn't help but grin, "Well, I'm sure that you'll get it. I'm not sure how I feel about being in the city for two straight months, but we'll see."

"Oh, you'll love it. There are lots of places that I can show you. It's . . . you'll love it," he promised.

"Okay. I need to get to sleep. I have an early morning rotation tomorrow, but I wanted to hear your voice before I went to bed," Lisa said sighing softly.

"I'm glad that I got here in time." He returned pausing a few seconds. Finally, he said, "I miss you."

"Me, too," she replied before going silent for a moment. "Are you still off on Sunday? I'll try calling you tomorrow. If not, you'll hear from me then," she told him.

"Yeah. I'm off, but I have a lacrosse game at two. Then, I'll probably go out for drinks with the team. How about I call you when I get home?" he offered.

"Sounds good. Kick ass on Sunday," she teased.

"Of course, I will. When don't I?" he boasted.

"I love you," she said.

"Love you too, Lisa. 'Night," Greg responded.

"Goodnight," Lisa replied hanging up the phone.


	3. Chapter 2

_**May 1992**_

Greg shifted in his seat and tugged awkwardly at his tie as he sat in a sea of crimson and black flanked by Lisa's family and his own. The speaker recited the Hippocratic Oath as the room of soon-to-be doctors repeated it back to him. His eyes were trained on the back of Lisa's head. Instead of recalling his own graduation and oath-taking, his thoughts wandered back to the first time they met.

_Greg was on his way back to his apartment after a particularly long Lacrosse practice. He was taking a shortcut alongside the tennis courts when he got beamed in the back of his head by a rogue tennis ball. His initial reaction was one of surprise, but anger came quickly after as he dropped his gear and picked up the ball intent on forcefully returning it to whomever had hit him with it._

_His eyes quickly scanned the courts and fell upon a petite brunette, who stood staring at him. Her head was tilted to the side as she took in his physique. Stunned momentarily by how attractive she was, he stood there clutching the ball in his hand as she approached him._

_"Sorry about that ..." said the tennis girl. Her tone was anything but apologetic as she reached out taking the ball from his hand with a smirk. "My name's Lisa," she said shifting her racket to the same hand that held the ball and extending her left hand towards him._

_He blinked at her for a couple of seconds as he gathered his wits. Taking her hand in his, he replied, "Greg," His eyes narrowed at her, "And you did that on purpose." His grip tightened on her hand keeping her in place. "I can't help but wonder why," he asked the pads of his fingers running gently across her palm._

_Lisa looked down at their joined hands lifting her eyebrow as his grip tightened. "Well, let's just say I was putting the ball in your court," she winked at him before she removed her hand from his. Walking away, her hips swayed as she returned to her side of the net all the while confident that he was watching her; had she turned her thoughts would have been confirmed and she would have seen him looking after her thoughtfully._

_He was back at the courts the next day. Lisa Cuddy was off the market by the end of the week._

He was jolted out of his reverie by the applause of the crowd. At that same moment, Lisa turned and found his gaze. Her face broke into a grin at the sight of him. He smiled back lifting his hands to his mouth to wolf whistle. She rolled her eyes at him and faced back front.

Their parents had left two days ago. They sat in Lisa's living room surrounded by boxes, which were mostly being sent to her parents' house. The rest were packed in the car ready to go to New York with them. Lisa had been accepted to all of the top residency programs. While she would have loved to stay in Boston and work at Mass General or to have even gone to Hopkins, she knew that they needed to start building their lives together. So, she accepted a spot at New York Presbyterian.

Initially, Greg had wanted to stay in Baltimore. He was pretty much guaranteed a job at John Hopkins Hospital, where he had just completed his residency. Lisa had been on track to graduate at the top of her class, so she could have pretty much done her residency anywhere she wanted. Things changed, however, after he did the summer rotation at New York Presbyterian in their infectious diseases department during his last year of residency. Lisa had spent a month and a half with him there deciding to take a much needed break to study up for her exams before her final year. They had both fallen in love with the city. Meeting some of the staff and teachers at New York Presbyterian, Lisa was motivated to apply for a residency there.

It was an unusual choice for them as Greg was not going to continue to work in Baltimore, and Lisa had gotten into better programs than the one at New York Presbyterian. Yet, they felt like they were making the best decision for them as a couple-for Greg to accept the three year fellowship in infectious diseases and for her to complete her residency there. It would give them both a strong footing in the New York job market if they decided to stay there. Plus the fellowship would be a great stepping stone for Greg to head his own department.

* * *

_**June 1992**_

Living together was not as difficult as they had anticipated. They had sort of lived together his last year of medical school at Michigan, but he had shared the house with a couple of roommates and it had not been just the two of them dividing the household chores.

When Lisa's parents learned that she was doing her residency in Manhattan, they were concerned for her safety. They gave the couple the move-in cost and first month's rent for a one bedroom apartment on the east side. Her parents found the place through some friends of theirs at their synagogue. The apartment was a one and a half bedroom prewar walkup at 74th and 1st avenue - they were able to walk to the hospital and often left together on the mornings that he went in early. They had christened all the rooms in the apartment by the end of their first day there.

They spent the first couple of months finding their footing with each other and fell into certain routines with basic house chores. Usually abrasive and blunt, Greg kept several of his pet peeves about Lisa's habits to himself. One morning in late summer, he could no longer contain himself and he blew up at her about her predilection for leaving her used tea bags in the sink.

She was a little taken aback at first, but then she countered with her annoyance at his habit of leaving wet towels all over the place. They spent the next ten minutes animatedly airing their grievances until Lisa burst into laughter soon followed by Greg. After that, they were more themselves eagerly voicing their opinions openly and thankfully finding that living together achieved a new level of contentment for their relationship.

_**

* * *

September 1992**_

Lisa sat next to Greg in a booth at the White Horse Tavern. There were six other people in the booth celebrating Greg's first solo accredited publication in a major medical journal. He was listed as a contributor in several articles submitted last year from the infectious diseases study, but this solo article was the first step in solidifying his notoriety as a genius in the field.

Andrew held up a copy of the journal that House had signed and read an excerpt in a very studious manner that had everyone laughing. He had worked with House last year in the Infectious Disease Department. Though they were not fast friends, they were amiable and respected each other.

"Yeah," Stephanie interjected at a pause, "The only thing missing is the touching backstory on how he broke all hospital protocol and berated a certain patient and family, nearly egging the father into breaking his nose."

"Let's not forget the extremely risky procedures and bribing of technicians," Lisa added grinning at Stephanie. She squeezed Greg's thigh under the table to reassure him she was only teasing.

"Petty details," Greg interjected with a dismissive wave, "I saved a life." He drained the rest of his beer and shifted his hand out of Lisa's to drape his arm around her shoulders. Then, he proclaimed cheerily, "I say we have another round."

"I got this one," Jim offered heading off to the bar.

Putting the journal down, Andrew reached across and picked up a handful of the snack mix on the table. He brushed off the crumbs and pointed a finger in Greg's direction. "You're lucky that you're a genius who's right most of the time. I swear, all the crap you pull is going to catch up with you one day." He lectured.

"Well, that day is not today." Greg replied solemnly, his arm imperceptibly tightening around Lisa.

_**

* * *

December 1992**_

It was New Year's Eve. Lisa and Greg stood with the throngs of people in the middle of Times Square. They had made quite a few friends outside of the hospital, but no one wanted to join them saying that it was too touristy. So, it was just the two of them. They were actually lucky to both be off-duty in the first place. They were meeting up with a group of residents and fellows, who had not been as fortunate to have the night off, around one o'clock at a bar near New York Presbyterian.

Greg had his arms loosely clasped around Lisa, and he looked at her with a dour expression on his face. He sighed, "I can't believe that I let you convince me to do this."

She pressed her fingers into the back of his neck, where her hands were clasped. "Don't be such a spoilsport," she reprimanded him pushing up on her toes to kiss his nose, "It's fun! I've watched this at home on my television for years, and I've always wanted to do it. Plus you totally owed me for last year." She smiled at him running her hands through the curls at the back of his head.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Remind me never to agree to anything when you're naked and bouncing above me," he replied moving his hands to her ass to give it a good squeeze.

"Why would ever I do that? It's the most effective way to get what I want," she grinned smugly pressing her pelvis into his.

"Touché." He responded, leaning forward to kiss her briefly. "How are you holding up? We've still got about twenty minutes, but it's freezing out here. Do you want me to go get you another coffee?" he asked rubbing his hands up and down her arms.

"No, I'm good. Just stay here with me," she responded moving her hands around his waist and snuggled her face into his chest.


	4. Chapter 3

_**January 1993**_

They were sitting in the hospital cafeteria sharing lunch. It was rare that they actually had time together while at work, so they both chose to spend it together instead of at a table with a group of friends. They were just finishing up when they heard a page for Dr. House over the intercom.

"Even after more than two years, it's still weird to hear you called House," Lisa commented watching as he grabbed the last few fries off her plate. He shoved them into his mouth with a wide grin as he stood up and pushed in his chair under the table.

"Gotta run, _Cuddy_," he smirked, "If they're paging me on the loudspeaker, it must be important." He bent down and placed a quick kiss on her lips, "I'll see you later, _Cuddy_."

"Very funny, _House_," she stuck her tongue out at him. Once he had exited the cafeteria, she gathered their trays and took them over to the conveyor belt. Heading back up to the resident lounge, she went to study before her next set of rounds.

* * *

Lisa was brushing her teeth when she heard the front door to the apartment close. "Greg?" she called out pausing with the toothbrush in midair. She stepped back from the sink and listened for a response at the bathroom door.

"Yeah. It's me," he called back. His reply was followed by some muffled thuds. Then he appeared in the bathroom doorway.

"Where have you been?" she asked leaning over to spit out the last of the toothpaste foam. Setting down her toothbrush, she cupped a hand under the stream, bringing the water to her mouth and rinsing, swiping the excess water from her mouth with the back of her hand before cutting off the tap.

"Out," Greg replied.

She arched her right eyebrow scrutinizing him as she turned to face him. Her back rested against the counter. In a frustrated tone, she asked, "I know that you were out. Where were you out and why?"

He stared at her a minute contemplating whether he should try to tell her a lie. She could see that he was considering it before he finally spoke up. "I wasn't anywhere. I was just walking along the river," he took in a deep breathe before continuing, "I'm suspended next week, and I got put on probation for the next six months."

"What? Suspended!" she exclaimed reaching out to grab his upper arm, "What the hell happened? Why are you on probation? Is that why you were paged?"

"I performed a procedure to save some kid's life," he murmured staring down at her hand that held onto his arm.

Confused, she questioned, "If you saved someone's life, why the hell would they suspend you?

"No one believed that I was trying to help him. I couldn't just watch him die!" Greg said with fury.

"Wait. Did you not have permission? What if you were wrong? Greg, there are rules in place for a reason-" she interjected.

"What the hell, Lisa! You're supposed to be on my side. Not theirs!" he shouted, "I can't help it that I work with a bunch of idiots too stupid to diagnose-"

Lisa removed her hand from his arm and walked away from him. She cut off his sentence looking at him sharply, "Don't use that tone with me. I told you that I don't like it, and I will not have you talk to me like that."

"I'll talk to you any damn way I please," he responded petulantly.

"No, the hell you won't," she moved to walk past him, but he blocked her path.

"Move," she hissed glaring up at him. Towering over her, he simply stared back.

"Greg, get the hell out of my way," she gritted out. When he didn't respond, she shoved him hard in the chest and pushed him to the side. After she brushed past him, she headed down the hall towards their bedroom.

He followed her down the hall and stopped in the doorway. Leaning against the doorjamb, he watched as she moved around the room getting ready for bed. She grabbed her retainer putting it in her mouth and pulled back the sheets. Getting into the bed, she covered her head with the blankets.

"That's it? Don't you have anything else to say to me?" Greg goaded moving towards the bed, "Well, it's good to know that I can't count on you!"

"Shut up!" Lisa shot up causing the covers to pool at her waist. "I have always been here for you when you need me, even if you're too stubborn to admit it," she scoffed. "What do you want me to say Greg? That I'm glad that you're ruining your career? That it's great that you're putting strain on our relationship, our marriage? That I'm happy for you and your little God complex?" she retorted.

"No," he sighed slumping down on the bed next to her. "I want your support – to be on my side this time. I saved the kid's life, Lisa. He was going to die, and I knew what was killing him. They wouldn't give me permission to save him, so I did what I had to. Would it be okay if it had been our kid? One day, it could be our kid. Hopefully, the person with the answer to cure him will have the balls to do it," he quietly returned.

Lisa stared at him for a moment. Finally, she reached out to cover his hand with hers. Her brows furrowed in question. She pleaded, "Greg, I'm sorry. I _am_ on your side. You know I'm on your side. I just want what's best for you – for us. But you can't keep doing this – you've had two warnings and now this probation. What's going on with you? It wasn't like this two years ago. What's changed?"

"I don't know," he answered quietly lacing his fingers with hers and meeting her eyes.

She moved towards him and cupped his cheeks, "I love you, but this can't keep happening."

He leaned forward touching his forehead to hers. His hands pulled her hands away from his face, "I love you, too. I wish I could promise that this was the last time . . . ."

"Don't lie. Don't make excuses... Let's go to bed," she urged pulling him under the covers with her.

_

* * *

**May 1993**_

"Greg?" Lisa's voice rang out into the dark apartment as she angrily threw her bag to the floor. Making her way into the living room, she flicked on the light switch as she passed through the doorway.

Greg looked over his shoulder; one hand gripping a tumbler full of amber liquid and the other pressing against the window sill. Turning away to look back down at the street, he asked, "Can you turn the light off please?"

Lisa paused glaring at his back before flicking off the light and striding over to the couch. She queried brusquely, "Well?"

"Well what, Lisa?" he drawled taking a gulp from his glass.

Her eyes grew narrower as she stared hard at his back. Angry lines were set all over her face. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled loudly. She pushed out, "You lost your fucking job today! I was just wondering when the hell you were going to tell me!"

"Yeah. Actually, I hadn't really thought about when I was going to break the news," he replied his tone thoughtful as he set the tumbler down on the sill and leaned his head against the glass.

A series of short, nervous laughs came out of Lisa's mouth, and she lost her last bit of control. Getting up from the couch, she started to pace alongside the bookshelves that lined one wall of their living room. She yelled, "You're unbelievable. I knew that you were reckless and stubborn, but why couldn't you just get through this fellowship, Greg? Why the hell do you always have to be right?"

"Whatever, Lisa. You sound just like them. I don't have to be right, I am right. I knew what was killing that woman and I saved her life!" he yelled back. He stepped away from the window and came to stand by her.

"Don't pretend this is more than it is - you didn't do it for the patient! You only did it to prove you weren't wrong! You sure as hell didn't think about the consequences. You were on probation, Greg! What the hell- I can't deal with this," Lisa scoffed at him. She threw her hand out in resignation dismissing the argument and turned to leave the room.

"Way to be a supportive wife," he mocked under his breath.

Turning around quickly, she glowered at him. She demanded not believing she had heard him correctly, "What did you say?"

"Nothing. I didn't say a single thing," he lied easily holding her gaze.

"You fucking bastard! I have done everything to support you. I turned down the top residency programs in the country so that I could be here with you. So, you could do this damn fellowship, and we could start our lives together. But you are selfish, you only think about yourself. What you think is right!" she screamed at him. Her anger caused tears to burn at the back of her eyes.

His eyebrows lifted, and he stared at her coldly. "If I'm so damn selfish, why did I bother putting a ring on your finger? Because all you really have to offer is what's between your legs and I was getting that pretty regularly already. Though, it's not like I'm getting that all that often now which makes you pretty useless," he spat at her using her greatest insecurity against her. He knew that he didn't mean it. He would never mean it but he wanted to win this battle any way he could.

Her hand shot out before she could think. "Fuck you," she bit out through the hurt. Pushing him roughly to the side, she strode out of the room and locked herself in their bedroom.

Greg stood anchored to the spot his face burning from where she had slapped him. He never felt so much shame and guilt in his life. After several minutes, he heard her muffled sobs coming through the bedroom door. As he listened to her crying, he contemplated whether he should try and make amends or leave her alone. He grabbed his jacket and keys leaving the apartment.

* * *

When he left the apartment, he headed for the river and found an empty bench. He sat there for several hours watching the lights blink on and off across the water. His thumb idly spun his wedding band as he wondered why he was fucking up so badly.

The past year had been crazy. Lately, he felt overwhelmed by work, by the city, by Lisa. He could not seem to control his actions at work and his stubbornness to prove he was right was going to cost him – it really was not about thumbing his nose at authority, though that was his reputation, he could care less. He just had to know if he was right.

He knew, though, that he was going about it all wrong. He didn't know why he was acting like this. It was like he was sabotaging his life, and he was watching it happen, but he couldn't figure out how to stop it. A part of him felt like he did not deserve to figure it out – that this was just a failsafe way to deny him things that he never deserved in the first place: a decent career, someone who loved him, happiness.

A horn blast from a barge making its way down the river broke him out of his reverie, and he decided it was time to make his way home.

It was around two in the morning when Greg crawled into bed. Wrapping his arms around Lisa, he pulled her tightly against him. "I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair. "I didn't mean it, Lisa. Getting you to be my wife – to even have anything to do with me at all - is the best thing I've ever done. You are smart, funny, and unbelievable hot. You've always been there for me. I don't deserve you, but I can't imagine my life without you. I love you so much. I didn't mean to hurt you. I don't know... I don't know what's going on with me," he finished lying in silence as he listened to her breathe and hoping that she would say something.

When he finally felt her body shift against his, he tightened his grip on her, his body tensing as he anticipated her rejection. She sounded stuffy when she spoke, and he knew that she had cried for a long time. She managed to get out, "I love you, too, Greg. Let's just go to sleep, okay?" She requested.

His body relaxed. He moved his face into her neck lifting his leg over her, trapping her body beneath his. "I'm sorry," his voice cracked with his own tears threatening – the hurt in him running deep at the things he had said to her that evening and what he had put her through these past months.


	5. Chapter 4

_**August 1994**_

Lisa sat at the kitchen table with a small pile of envelopes neatly stacked in front of her and a closed checkbook resting under her hands. She closed her eyes as she leaned forward and rested her head on the wooden tabletop. Once a month, she sat down and paid their bills; it was a process that always stressed her out.

Lately, things seemed to be coming in faster than their paychecks, and Greg's loans never seemed to decrease. Not surprising considering he couldn't manage to hold onto a job. He was let go from New York Presbyterian a little over a year ago and did a brief stint in Mt. Sinai's nephrology department before getting fired for doing an experimental procedure on a patient. She was pretty sure that he got his current position at NYU Medical Center through blackmail. She feared his antics would eventually get so out of hand that no one would touch him but since they needed the money, she didn't bother to call him on it.

Sitting upright, her right hand reached to absently play with her wedding ring. She slid it up and off her finger. Holding the ring in the palm of her hand, she loosely jostled it as she remembered the day that Greg proposed. Despite everything that had happened recently, the memory still brought a smile to her face. She slipped the ring back on her finger and stood up to prepare dinner.

_**

* * *

**_

_**September 1994**_

It was a rare day for them. They were both off of work. They puttered around the apartment for the better part of the morning. Lisa did some light cleaning and caught up with her parents via telephone.

In the early afternoon, she convinced Greg to walk with her to Central Park. It was autumn, so the weather had turned chilly. She huddled into his chest where they lay in the middle of the Great Lawn catching the last rays of tepid sunshine.

Greg played with a strand of her hair wrapping it around his finger into a tight coil and then letting it unravel. When she felt him shift beneath her, it prompted her to ask him if he was ready to go. In response, he tightened his arm around her in a hug and resettled his body.

When they arrived home later that evening, there were several messages on the answering machine. She pressed the playback button as they divested themselves of their additional layers. Greg moved to the living room and settled on the couch with a medical journal as she listened to the messages.

The first two were solicitors, and she quickly erased them. The next message was regarding information about a job interview, which she jotted down on the paper pad next to phone. The final message was simply a click. She joined Greg on the couch with a smile on her face.

"I have a potential job interview," she smiled poking him with her toes.

"I heard," he said with feigned disinterest using his index finger to brush her foot away before he turned the page of the journal he was reading.

"Well, aren't you excited for me?" she pouted moving behind him to straddle his back. Her arms came around his neck putting him in a pseudo sleeper hold.

Greg pretended to choke as he moved his hands up to her arms and let the journal drop from his lap. "Yes! Yes, I am happy for you. Please don't kill me," he pleaded jokingly.

"That's better," she placated, placing her chin on his shoulder as she dropped her hands onto his chest.

"You know…" Greg paused, "I don't understand why you are applying to other places. You're virtually guaranteed a job at New York Presbyterian. I thought you liked it there," he said rubbing her arms absently.

"I do. Their endocrinology department is definitely one of the best, but the department head has only been there for four years. It could be a long time before I can move up," she responded taking his hand and toying with his fingers.

"Department head? You want to be a department head, since when?" Greg inquired curiously as he played with her fingers.

"What do you mean 'since when'?" she leaned back from him and pushed herself away to look at him. "Why do you think I've been taking extra courses at Columbia to get the Masters in Public Health?" she asked incredulously.

Greg was a taken aback by her sudden move away from him. He shrugged, "I don't know. I just figured it was you being you – an obsessive compulsive perfect little school girl. We never really talked about it."

"You have got to be kidding me. I've been busting my ass to finish my residency, take these courses, and deal with your bullshit. And you think it's just been for fun," she looked at him disbelievingly. She shook her head at him and pushed herself up to get off the couch. She started to pace in front of him, her hands lifting to rub her temples.

He stopped her grabbing her wrist and pulling her back down onto the couch. He stated, "Come on, Lisa. We haven't really talked to each other or been together all that much this year. It's like we're roommates. I hardly ever see you. This is the first time in months that I can remember being with you for something other than a late meal or sleeping," His voice pleaded her to calm down and listen. In response, she sighed running her free hand through her hair in frustration.

He continued, "As much as I hate to admit it, I don't really know what's going on in your life right now." He locked eyes with her. His grip on her hand loosened as his thumb softly rubbed across her knuckles. Dropping his gaze, he focused on their linked hands while she digested what he said.

"Okay. Well, let's talk now," she responded readily. Shifting away from his grasp, she brought her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them. She turned to look at Greg. She asked seriously, "What's your five year plan, Greg?"

He looked at her for a second before leaning back on the couch. His head flopped back and he stared up at the ceiling. Covering her foot with his hand, he absently traced the delicate bones. He mused aloud before closing his eyes, "My five year plan?"

Since it was clear that he had not given any serious thought to the idea, she decided to take pity on him. Her big toe lifted slightly pressing into his palm. She asked, "How about I tell you my five year plan and you tell me what you think?"

"Okay," he murmured in agreement turning his head towards her, giving her his full attention.

"I'm twenty-seven right now, and I'll finish with my Masters program in January. I would like to test the waters to see which hospitals will take me now or wait for me to finish this program before starting," she paused to look at Greg to make sure he was listening, "If I start a new position next year, we can start saving for a house. I should also be on track to become a department head by the time I turn thirty. Once I have that position, I should have more flexibility with my schedule, and we could start a family." She stopped here to gauge his reaction.

"Hmm…" he murmured, "What about patients? It doesn't sound like you left yourself much time to practice," he pointed out. Privately, he took a moment to digest the revelation that she wanted to have kids in the next three years or so.

"Of course, I want to practice medicine, but it will be easier if I am in charge of my schedule," she paused and leaned forward to poke him with her index finger. She prodded, "I noticed that you had no comment on the family part."

"I guess that I haven't really thought about it beyond knowing that I want to have one some day. I mean you know how I feel about my family. I'm not against the idea, but the thought of a kid scares and excites me," he said with a smirk but spoke sincerely, "I don't know. I know for certain that I'm not ready now, but who knows in three years."

"I understand given your experience with family," she said leaning in to kiss his forehead. She chuckled, "I'm just as scared and excited as you about the thought of bearing your spawn." She took his face in her hands.

Greg rolled his eyes and covered her hands on either side of his face as Lisa cupped his cheeks. Before he kissed her lightly, he retorted, "It's your demon egg that would make it evil spawn, not my righteous sperm."

She grinned at him sticking her tongue out briefly, "You go on believing that." She teased him, "I love you, Gregory House, but you don't have a righteous bone in your body," she whispered playfully before she tightened her grip and planted a hard kiss on him.

"I love you, too, Lisa Cuddy," he smirked, pushing her back into the couch as he slid between her legs and covered her with his body.

_**

* * *

**_

_**October 1995**_

Lisa placed her bag on the overhead rack and slumped down into the leather seat. Leaning forward to remove her jacket, she placed it over her chest as a makeshift blanket and slouched towards the window placing her head on the cool windowpane. It was a quarter after eleven at night and she was finally on the train back to Manhattan.

For over a year, she had been commuting to Princeton, where she had taken a position in the endocrinology department at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Today, the journey finally took its toll on her.

During the first week, she drove their car because it was more economical for them and since it was a reverse commute, it was actually shorter as she did not have to deal with much traffic. Despite the pros, Greg, saw how stressed out she was and suggested that she should try the train. After a couple days of public transit, she saw that driving was more stressful and found that the train gave her time to decompress and that she could complete work during the trip was an added bonus.

However, everything was changing, again. Her department head planned to retire next year. Though she didn't have seniority, she knew that she was the favored candidate to take over the position. As a result, she was putting in more hours and spending more time in Princeton to network for the position.

A couple of months ago, Greg suggested that they move from their current apartment in Manhattan to a cheaper place in Brooklyn. Then, they could use the difference in rent to lease a place closer to Princeton where she could stay if she did not want to do the hour and a half commute.

At the time, she had brushed off his suggestion. Despite the salary that she earned, he had lost another job and currently worked temporarily in the emergency room at Bellevue. She did not want to put any unnecessary strain on their finances. Yet, today she gave it some serious thought and concluded that she would have to talk to Greg in the morning.

_**

* * *

**_

_**April 1996**_

Lisa sat in the dark ballroom listening to the final minutes of Greg's speech. He was the keynote speaker at this particular event in Washington, D.C at which he had also received an award. She rarely saw him present, so she was excited, not just for his achievement, but to experience him in his true element – talking about the science and puzzles that he was so passionate about.

Despite his constant disagreements with authority and inability to keep a job, he was infamous in the medical community for his brilliance and engaging lectures, which he was frequently sought after as he gave them so infrequently. Since he finished his residency, he continued to have articles published in several journals and received unsolicited requests for consults from doctors across numerous fields of specialization. On occasion, he was intrigued enough by a case that he would obsess over it until he found an answer. Most of the time, the diagnosis was so obvious in his mind that it was not worth his time to respond.

Lisa watched as he wrapped up his conclusions on the case study walking around the stage as his hands animatedly punctuated his words. He could get so lost and fascinated by the science. The only other times she saw him close to that focused was when he first pursued her, though she did not recognize it then, and when they made love. It was what made the difference between when they had sex and made love; it was like nothing else in the world existed except her. As much as she reveled in the appreciation, it was an overwhelming sensation to have all of his intensity focused on her.

She was brought out of her musings by the clapping of the crowd, and her own hands immediately came together in applause. A huge smile lit up her face as Greg searched her out catching her eye. After he shook hands with the emcee, he made his way off of the stage. Standing up from the table, she moved into the flow of networking that inevitably began after the presentation.

It was not common knowledge that Gregory House was married. They did not actively hide their relationship, but they were infrequently together at public events. When their names were linked, people often thought that it was just rumor. They were unwilling to believe that someone as respectable as Lisa Cuddy would give House the time of day.

It often put her in uncomfortable positions with people gossiping about his latest antics or speculating on his sanity. There were also the inevitable musings by clusters of women over how attractive he was and speculation about his prowess in the bedroom. As neither of their weddings bands particularly looked the part, it also meant they both got hit on quite a bit. Given the number of people in attendance, she knew she would have to be particularly diligent to make sure Greg was not in earshot should it happen.

After half-an-hour of mingling, she finally caught Greg's eye and silently signaled him with a flirtatious grin that she was ready to call it a night. He smiled back at her and immediately began disengaging himself from the conversation he was engaged in. She decided to wait for him outside by the elevator bank. Standing idly and fingering her clutch, a physician, she vaguely recognized from one of the earlier talks, approached her.

"You look too lovely to be calling it a night," the physician commented as his eyes subtly took in her appearance, his tone making his intention clear, "Why don't you join me at the bar for a night cap?"

"It's been a long day," Lisa said with feigned disappointment. She had learned quickly that you never knew when you were going to run into these people – the medical world was small and dealing with bruised egos added unnecessary tension to her life. Tempering the rejection with a half smile she elaborated, "And I'm actually waiting on someone, but thank you."

"Well, they can come, too. A cocktail is one of the best ways to unwind from a long day. First round is on me," he persisted stepping closer, but not yet invading her personal space.

She was just about to decline again when she sensed Greg approaching. Her body tensed as she knew from previous experience that he was possessive and jealous. Silently, she hoped that he would not cause too much of a scene.

"Hi, Dr. Allan," Greg said cheerily as he came up behind the other man and soundly patted him on the back.

"Dr. House," Dr. Allan greeted, "Great presentation you gave. Really great!" He spoke with genuine enthusiasm. As one of the speakers, he had been at the welcome luncheon and sat at the table with House. He found his caustic attitude amusing and had been captivated by his obvious intelligence.

"Thank you," Greg said before turning towards Lisa, "I'm not interrupting anything?" He focused his attention on her as he looked her up and down before looking between the two of them.

"No, just saving me from embarrassing myself further with this attractive lady here," Dr. Allan returned sending Lisa a boyish grin. He had a hopeful glint in his eye as he inclined his head in her direction.

Greg narrowed his gaze at the other man adjusting his body slightly towards his wife, Pinning Dr. Allan with a patronizing stare, he said, "Oh, it's nothing she's not used to."

Dr. Allan noticed the subtle change in House's body language and looked between him and the woman at his side finally picking up on the tension in her body. He looked down at their hands; they did have rings on, albeit untraditional ones. "I don't doubt it. Well, I won't keep either of you . . . I umm . . . I'm meeting someone in the bar for a nightcap," he finished hurriedly saying a final goodbye and excusing himself.

Greg placed kisses along the side of Lisa's neck and entwined their hands as soon as the doors to the private elevator closed. They were on their way up to the Penthouse Suite of the hotel – one of the perks of being an honoree.

"I can't take you anywhere," he mumbled against her neck sucking lightly and toying with the thought of marking her.

Lisa arched into his kisses pulling back slightly at his suction. It was strong. She was wary on the tails of the encounter downstairs that she just might acquire a hickey tonight. She teased, "Hmm. If it's any consolation, I can assure you that even if the women aren't hitting on you, they are speculating rather generously about your package."

"Oh, what exactly are they speculating?" he queried. His eyebrows lifted, and his hands loosely clasped her waist as he looked down at her.

Just then, the elevator dinged signaling that they had reached their floor. Lisa stepped out tugging him by the hand. Leading him to their room door, she spoke over her shoulder in response, "That's for me to know and for them never to find out."

She stopped at the door and dug the key out of her clutch to let them into the room. She stepped out of her heels as he closed the door. He came up behind her grabbing the material of her dress and pulled it up to give his roaming hands access to her skin.

He groaned when he came into contact with the garters encasing her thighs. Lisa shifted away from him, turning in his arms and lifting her hands to his face. Stroking her fingers against his cheeks, she whispered affectionately before pulling him into a lingering kiss, "I'm proud of you."

When the kiss ended, Greg pulled back rubbing his hands along her waist as hers shifted to his shoulders. He stared into her eyes with an intense gaze. Thoughtfully, he said, "I'm glad you're here – feels like I haven't seen you in months."

"That probably has something to do with the fact that you haven't," she informed him a tinge of sadness in her tone. Gripping his lapels, she walked backwards tugging him with her.

Turning them around, she pushed him onto the bed. She lifted her dress, straddled him, and leaned down to kiss him. Speaking against his lips, she promised huskily, "Just means we have a lot of catching up to do." Then she ran her tongue along the seam of his mouth asking for entrance which he eagerly granted it.

_**

* * *

**_

_**November 1996**_

Greg rested against the bathroom doorway watching Lisa put on the last of her makeup. Being at his current job only a couple of months, he was unable to get off for the Thanksgiving holidays. Luckily, their anniversary fell on a weekend this year, so he could come down to Princeton.

The drive from Hartford was not too bad. Since his shift had ended at eleven p.m., he got in early that morning. Dumping his stuff in the entryway, he made his way to the bedroom and crawled in beside Lisa. He pulled her body to his inhaling her scent briefly and nuzzling her neck before falling asleep.

They had not seen each other in three months. When he lost his last position, she became livid and gave him the silent treatment for several weeks. It was easy to do since they currently lived in separate states and she was extremely busy.

Lisa was tapped to be the head of the endocrinology department and would take over at the beginning of next year. During the assessment process, she spent a lot of time with the Dean of Medicine. He obviously had taken a liking to her. It reached the point that they joined the Dean and his wife in their home for dinner. The Dean had been surprised and intrigued to find out that Lisa's husband was _the_ Greg House.

Greg did not like that he heard about Lisa's boss so much and had agreed to the dinner partly to put a face to the name and partly to resolve his unacknowledged jealousy. He never thought there was any real threat, he trusted Lisa implicitly, but he was possessive and innately curious. The meal confirmed his suspicions that it was nothing more than a mentor relationship. They had actually had a good time that evening and the Dean blatantly hinted at an interest in having Greg work at PPTH; a notion which Greg brushed off, much to Lisa's silent disappointment.

The sound of running water brought him out of his reverie. He focused his eyes on hers in the mirror seeing the expectant look on her face. Figuring that he must have missed a question, he asked, "Did you say something?"

The corner of her mouth lifted, and she shook her head. Turning off the taps, she reached to the hand towel to dry her hands. Before she turned towards the bathroom door, she looked at the watch on her wrist and said, "It's not important. We should get going. Our reservation is for eight."

She walked past him into the bedroom, her arm lightly brushing against him. He watched her move around the room. She stopped at the closet to pull out a pair of heels and toed them on. Then, she went to the bureau where she put on earrings and a strand of pearls. Lastly, she sprayed on a light mist of perfume.

It suddenly occurred to him while he watched her that he didn't know this woman. His thumb flipped his wedding band. Spinning the outer ring, he thought back over their past. They had been together constantly at Michigan, but they had spent so much time apart over these last three years that he felt like a voyeur watching her get ready.

He thought to ten years ago when he first met her. They were both so young and full of life and energy. Now, he was just tired, tired of punching the proverbial clock, butting heads with his superiors, losing jobs, feeling lost and unfocused, and lacking resolve to achieve his potential. In the meantime, she was bursting with ambition and plans. They still hadn't talked about him moving to New Jersey. It made sense since she was obviously making a career here; nor had they again discussed any of the other goals in her five year plan.

He wondered why they were still together. Then, she walking towards him, stopping in front of him to ask if he was ready to go with a wide smile on her face; he called it her 'classic Cuddy smile". It never failed to mesmerize him; causing his heart to beat faster and his breath to catch in his chest. That smile made him remember why he would do anything to keep her in his life.

He placed his hands on her shoulders and lightly skimmed them over the bared skin and up the sides of her neck. Looking down at her, he breathed, "I love you."

Then, he searched her eyes and leaned forward to press a kiss to her lips. Her hands clutched his hips, and she sighed into his mouth.

"Mmm…same," she murmured against his lips. Pulling back from the kiss, she moved her hands up to his chest and looked up at him. Placing her head on his breastbone and nuzzling him with her nose to breathe in his scent, she murmured with closed eyes, "I missed you."

"Me, too," he confessed. His hands stroked her back and came up to lightly caress her arms. Then, he tugged at her elbows and reluctantly reminded her, "We need to get going."

"Yeah," she sighed stepping out of his embrace. Leading him out of the bedroom, she picked her purse and keys up off the hall table. Shooting him a grin as she sashayed out the door, she said over her shoulder, "I'm driving."

_**

* * *

**_

_**December 1996**_

"I'm late," Lisa spoke just loud enough for Greg to hear.

He kept his eyes focused on the television screen absently placing his beer on the coffee table. Offhandedly, he asked, "Late for what? I thought that we decided to stay in for New Year's."

"Greg," she pressed. Her tone prompted him to focus his attention on her. The way that she wrung her hands and the paleness of her face had him off the couch and moving towards her.

"Lisa, what's wrong?" he implored grabbing her hand and using his other to guide her to the couch. Taking in her features and rapid pulse, he questioned, "Are you okay?"

"I'm late," she whispered, again.

"I don't understand. What are you talking about? Late for-" he stopped suddenly. Staring at her wide-eyed, it had occurred to him that she was never late for anything that she had control over. The only thing she didn't have that power over was her menstrual cycle. Immediately, his concern was tempered by panic.

When she saw that he realized what she meant, she quietly acknowledged, "Yeah." She sighed again while her hands fell to her sides on the couch. Looking at Greg, she took a deep breathe, "I know that it's not a good time for this. I'm just about to take over as department head. You're in Connecticut. We still have so many loans to pay..." Her voice trailed off unable to finish the sentence.

"What does that mean exactly, 'It's not a good time'? Are you..." he couldn't bring himself to say it. He knew it wasn't a good time – there would never be a good time - but they discussed children in the past. He always thought that they would probably have them one day, and it hurt him that it sounded like she wanted to get rid of it.

His feelings must have registered on his face. Suddenly, she grabbed his arm and looked straight into his eyes. She reassured, "Greg I would never abort our child."

He released a breath that he didn't even know he was holding. Reaching up to cover her hand with his, he responded, "I know. It was just . . . everything you were saying. How late are you? Have you taken a test?"

"I should have started three days ago," she answered his first question and finished, "I just realized something wasn't right. I'm still taking the pill, so I haven't taken a test yet."

"Okay, I'll drive down to the Rite Aid and get a couple of tests," He stood up and leaned down to kiss her forehead, "It'll be okay." He headed to the hallway grabbing the car keys and exiting the house, stopping to lock the door after it shut behind him.

He came back fifteen minutes later with three pregnancy tests. Lisa sat in the kitchen drinking a large glass of water. Taking the bag from him, she gave him a tight smile before she headed towards the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, he paced around the living room. When he heard her come out of the bathroom, he quickly dropped onto the couch. She came out looking just as pale and drawn as she had when she went into the bathroom. She shook her head as she crawled into his lap. His arms came around her and stroked her hair and back. Part of him was relieved, but the other part was just as sad as the woman softly crying into his chest.


	6. Chapter 5

_**January 1997**_

He first saw her in a coffee shop. It was her southern drawl that caused him to turn his head from the sugar packets that he was pouring into his coffee. She was tall and thin with glossy dark hair that fell just below her shoulders. After she ordered a mocha cappuccino, she paid and stepped to the end of the counter to wait for her drink.

Stunned by the fact he found himself captivated by another woman – the punch to his gut shocking - he quickly looked back down at his coffee. Grabbing a wooden stick, he stirred the liquid a few times before putting a lid on it. He made his way out of the shop without a backwards glance.

A week later, he was in the same coffee shop ordering his usual when she walked in. He didn't realize until that moment that he had hoped that he would see her again. Their eyes held briefly, and she appeared intrigued flashing him a brilliant smile.

His order was called out in the next second. He grabbed the cup averting his eyes as he headed over to the small table full of sugars and creams. He was pouring in his third packet of sugar when someone stepped up next to him.

"I thought that I was the only one who tried to sweeten the bitter out of coffee," the woman joked reaching for several packets with a small smile.

"Yeah," he replied noncommittally avoiding eye contact and cursing the heat rising in his body. He couldn't remember feeling this way since he met Lisa. At the thought of her name, his eyes immediately went to his wedding ring. He turned to leave, stopping when the woman extended her hand in greeting.

"Stacy," she grinned waiting expectantly for him to respond in kind.

He stared blankly at her hand, the situation verging on awkward before he finally took her hand in his. Looking her square in the eye, he finally responded, "Greg."

_**

* * *

**_

_**February 1997**_

Greg sat in his office staring out the window at the overcast sky. The thumb and forefinger of his right hand spun his wedding band. Since meeting Stacy a month ago, he had shared several lunches with her and even went to a bar with a couple of her colleagues from the legal department.

There was a lot about her that reminded him of Lisa. A part of him was drawn to her because of the resemblances. He was honest with himself this time, though, and admitted those weren't the only reasons.

There was a part of him holding out hope - convinced that his feelings would go away. He had female friends. Well, he had Lauren. He thought that this might turn into the same kind of relationship.

Yet, there were these other feelings. He was lonely and he missed Lisa. Lisa was really the only person that he had let into his life besides Lauren, and he had grown used to their intimacy. The distance and her disappointment – his too – over his inability to keep a job, among other things, had caused a rift between them. It was subtle, but it was there.

Stacy knew that he was married. She asked about his ring during their first lunch. It made her cautious, but it did not do much to temper her attraction.

What he hated most about this thing with Stacy was that it made him reevaluate his marriage. His relationship - or what there was left of it with Lisa. They had not seen each other since January and usually only talked once a week. The conversations were somewhat vague, stilted, and rushed. He never doubted his love for her or hers for him, but there were doubts about the marriage. He wondered if they had outgrown each other.

Knowing that he needed to talk to her, he sighed. A glance at his watch told him that she would still be in the office, so he reached for his phone. He lifted the receiver and punched in her work number.

"Dr. Cuddy," she answered authoritatively on the third ring.

"It's me," he responded hoping that she did not hear the tension in his voice.

"Greg?" she asked a little confused since he rarely called her at work.

He closed his eyes exhaling a short breath, "We need to talk."

* * *

He pulled into the driveway of her house for only the third time since she bought it last year. He always thought of it as _her_ house since he never lived there. Cutting the engine, he lightly gripped the steering wheel as he stared at the little white house in front of him.

It had two bedrooms, two-n-half baths, and a good sized yard with a nice patio in the back. It was on a quaint little suburban street in Princeton. The place screamed Cuddy; there was none of him here.

He pulled the keys out of the ignition, unbuckled his seatbelt, and got out of the car. Making his way up the path to the front door, he decided that knocking felt more appropriate than using the key she had given him. He rapped a couple of times on the door before turning to take in the other houses on the block. They were all cut from the same mold: manicured lawns, white paint, and trees just beginning to bud with bright green leaves.

Hearing the sound of muffled footsteps near the door, he turned around just as the locks clicked and the door opened. His eyes shifted over her body. She was barefoot. Her hair was up in a ponytail, and she wore charcoal colored yoga pants and a white tank top. She had a tentative smile on her face, but her eyes were guarded. He stood awkwardly on the porch not really sure what to do.

"Are you going to come in, or are you happy out there?" she asked with a smirk. Lifting an eyebrow, she gestured him inside.

"You don't have any bags?" she queried as he came into the living room and stopped awkwardly by the coffee table.

"No," he responded and then admitted, "I wasn't sure if I'd be staying."

"Oh," she replied. Her anxiety level jumped. She had worried about the purpose of his visit since their phone call earlier that week. She figured there were some things that he wanted to tell her in person, and none of the scenarios she came up with were good. Why didn't he plan to stay, or did he think that she wouldn't want him to stay? Either way, it did not bode well whatever it might be.

She cleared her throat peeking looks at him. Absently, she chewed her lip before offering him a drink. He nodded, and she went off to the kitchen. Standing in front of the fireplace, he looked at the photos on her mantle until she came back into the room.

"The kids are a lot bigger," he said referring to the shot of her and her nephews sledding down a snow covered hill. He couldn't help but think that he hadn't seen her that happy in a very long time.

"God, I know. Aaron is already taller than me, and Eli is getting there," she said standing next to him and smiling at the photo.

She handed him his drink and leaned forward to give him a kiss. Returning to the couch, she sat, crossed her legs under her, and sipped at her glass of water. Lowering her glass, she held it between both hands on her lap looking at him expectantly.

He was surprised by the kiss. He shouldn't be, but it was the guilt. Even though it was not the case, to a degree, he felt like he was cheating on her. His eyes quickly scanned the rest of the pictures before he made his way to the chair diagonal to her.

He sat down, took a long swig of the beer, placed the bottle on the coffee table, and settled back in the chair. He rubbed his hands up and down his thighs in a nervous gesture before he turned to her. He looked at her remaining silent and fidgeting with the ring on his finger.

"I met someone," he confessed quietly.

In that instant, Lisa did not comprehend what precisely he meant. She had an idea about what he was saying but . . . was he admitting infidelity or something worse? Was he about to ask her for a divorce? Things were bad, but not that bad. At least she did not think they were.

Her breath caught in her throat. She was overwhelmed with a sense of hurt and revulsion, and her fingers reflexively gripped the glass in between her hands. Sitting there silently, she stared at him. All of these feelings briefly registered on her face before she regained control of her emotions.

"I met her about a month ago. Her name is Stacy. She's a lawyer at the hospital," he paused, "I've had lunch with her a couple of times, went to a bar, but nothing's happened."

"Yeah, I'm sure you're here because _nothing's_ happened." She interjected her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Nothing physical." He clarified, "She knows I'm married."

Lisa looked at him in utter disbelief for several minutes. Her mouth was slightly opened as she processed what he was telling her. Her forehead creased as her eyebrows furrowed questioningly. She asked petulantly, "Do you know you're married?"

He did not respond, just sat their giving her a hard look.

She stared back for several moments before sighing deeply. "Why are you here?" she asked, "You couldn't have just told me this over the phone?"

"No. I couldn't," he responded through clenched teeth his voice getting louder. "I didn't think that it was appropriate to call my wife and tell her that for the first time in our entire relationship, I was thinking about fucking another woman!" He exploded,

Lisa was momentarily stunned by his admission; the words felt like a punch to her gut.

"Say something!" He yelled, "I tell you that I've thought about cheating on you, and you don't have anything to say?"

His anger seeped into her. Uncrossing her legs and leaning forward, Lisa slammed her glass on the coffee table and screamed back, "What do you want me to say Greg? Do you need my blessing?"

"I want you to react, to show some emotion!" he shouted back at her.

"This is my reaction, damn it. Is it wrong? Were you expecting me to tell you that it's okay? Sure, Greg, it's okay for you to see another woman while we're married, or maybe you thought I'd be happy that you saw fit to tell me about a relationship that you've been carrying on behind my back for a month now." She ranted.

"The martyr act is a bit melodramatic you know," he returned.

"Are you serious? You're the one who came here to tell me about your infidelities and you have the nerve to say something about the way I'm handling it?" she uttered disbelievingly.

He stared at her his expression woeful, "What the fuck happened to us? We don't really talk. We never see each other. I feel like we don't even know each other anymore."

"Well, maybe if you could manage to hold a job for more than a year, you would be around to talk to me and to see me," she accused.

"You don't need to be a bitch," he began, only to be cut off by Lisa's hand making contact with the right side of his face as she launched out of her seat. His head snapped to the side as the loudness of the force of the blow reverberated in the room.

"You have no right. I am not a bitch. You selfish bastard! You're not doing this for me. If I deserve anything, it's not this. I deserve a fucking partner who puts me first – who puts us first. I have given you space and time to figure out what you want out of life. I have spent years waiting for you while you bounced from job to job. I waited because I didn't want to spend my life without you," she cried dejectedly.

"I never asked you to," he retorted angrily his face still stinging from her slap, "If you thought I was such a fuck up, you should have just left."

"You never asked me to?" she repeated looking at him bewildered, "What do you think marriage is? You asked me to when you married me, every time that we slept together, every time that you accepted my support, every time that I put my life on hold for you."

"Don't put your choices on me. If you were pathetic enough to not pursue your dreams, then it's on you, not on me," he blamed.

"I'm not pathetic, I love you! You support the people you love! Make sacrifices for them! If you're such a self-absorbed bastard you can't see that, I shouldn't be surprised that this is how you repay me," she scoffed and then asked wearily, "When have you ever sacrificed anything for me?"

"Is this what you thought I wanted?" he moved his hand indicating the room, "A house in the suburbs, a nine to five job, a wife I never see and incredible debt? I hate this! I never wanted these things!" he yelled.

"Well _we_ don't have those things. _I_ have those things! I have been waiting to share them with you. And those are not sacrifices, Greg. That's life. You married me. You made a promise to share your life with me, and you're not keeping it," she looked at him saddened that they were once again on different pages.

"The only thing I ever promised was to love you, and I have never broken that promise," he defended himself.

"Well you have a funny way of showing it," she sighed tired of fighting.

"You've never had any problem with the way I showed it before," he retorted.

"I never thought you would hurt me like this. But that was dumb because you're an arrogant and selfish prick, and you have never shown a bit of concern for how I feel. I've been stupid to put up with it; I have stood up for you and have even been brought down with you. Yet, you still don't care. You just don't fucking care! Well, now I don't care either! I don't care about your stupid fucking emotional problems and your inability to grow up. Do whatever the hell you want. If you want to be with someone else, then go ahead. Please, do have the courtesy to continue to let me know since I deserve it," she pushed the words out fighting the tears that stung at the back of her eyes.

Greg did not know what to say. During all the years they were a couple, she had never been so blunt before with him. It hurt. For the first time in his life, he did not have the words to lash back. He sat silently staring at her; his face completely lacking any expression.

After several silent moments, Lisa stood up before finally speaking. "I think you should leave. I want you to leave."

"We're not done talking," Greg began quietly only to get cut off.

"I'm done talking. I can't do this right now. I can't even look at you, so you need to leave," she motioned towards the front door before making to leave the room herself.

Greg leapt out of his seat and rushed towards her his arm stretched out intent on stopping her from leaving. He grasped her arm and turned her to him. When he saw the tears in her eyes, the hurt and guilt overwhelmed him.

He begged, "I know that you don't believe me right now, but I love you, Lisa. I swear to God, I wouldn't . . . I don't know what's happening. Please."

"You don't believe in God, so don't," she spat at him in disgust. Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she narrowed her eyes, "Just don't. If you didn't think you'd done anything wrong, you wouldn't be here asking for absolution. Get your hands off of me and get out of my house."

"Lisa," he pleaded, his hand momentarily tightening around her arm as he stared down at her. He could see the resolve on her face, so he dropped his hand to his side. She turned her back to him and headed to the door hoping that he would take the hint and follow.

"Don't walk away from me!" he yelled in a burst of emotion as he watched her leave. As she passed the threshold, angered and frustrated, he reached down and grabbed the beer bottle hurling it across the room. The glass smashed against the wall. Brown shards exploded, and a foamy mass of liquid gurgled to the floor

He slammed his fist into the coffee table several times before slumping back into the chair. His hands came up to cover his face and dug into his scalp. Clenching his fists, he tried to keep the tears at bay that burned in his eyes.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Lisa yelled coming back into the room at the sound of the shattering glass. She came to a halt and jumped involuntarily as she watched his blows make contact with the wooden table.

"Greg?" she asked warily as she tentatively moved towards him from across the room once he had stopped pounding his fist into the table.

"This isn't how this is supposed to go . . . I haven't done anything wrong. I just need you to fix this. You always fix it, Lisa," he rambled dropping his hands into his lap and looking up at her with glassy eyes. His expression pleaded with her.

"Let me see your hand," she demanded. Not waiting for his permission, she picked it up and examined the fingers gently testing the mobility and looking for fractures. His knuckles were red, the skin was scraped away, and it was already beginning to slightly swell. Luckily, it wasn't broken. She placed his hand back on his lap and headed into the kitchen to get him some ice.

When she returned, she handed him a bag of ice that he placed over his fist. She spoke before heading to her bedroom, "This doesn't change the fact that I want you to leave. Go when you're done icing your hand."

"I'm sorry," he apologized barely loud enough for her to hear. His voice cracking at the end.

Lisa paused briefly with her back still to him. Her lips pressed together in a tight line. She responded, "That's not enough this time." Without another word, she headed down the hallway to her room. She closed the door behind her with a soft click and fell back onto the cool wood sliding down to the floor. Her bottom hit the ground with a silent thud. Pulling her knees up, she hugged them to her chest and began to sob silently against her thighs.

Greg sat alone in the living room for several minutes trying to figure out what just happened. He stood slowly adjusting the ice before he went to the front door. He stopped briefly fumbling to remove her house keys from his key ring with one hand and placed them next to the bowl of coins on the side table in the entranceway.


	7. Chapter 6

_**May 23, 1997**_

Greg waited at Gate 7 absently rubbing his right thigh. It had hurt on and off for the last few days. He figured that he would need to get Lauren to write him a script for something a little stronger than the samples that he had pilfered from the hospital.

His eyes were trained on the stream of passengers coming out of the passageway from the recently landed plane. As the exiting numbers began to thin, he started to think that Lauren decided not to come. He called her two days ago and left a message on her machine telling her that there was a ticket waiting for her at the Delta counter for this weekend. He didn't say anything else knowing that she knew him well enough to know that his actions expressed that he really needed her.

He looked down at his watch contemplating whether or not he should make the drive to Baltimore or find a flight. Consequently, he did not see Lauren come out of the gate. Caught unaware, he jumped back and emitted a somewhat unmanly sound when she sidled up next to him and gave him a Wet Willie.

"Brat," he blustered while a smile broke free as he reached for her bag.

"Yeah, you know you love me," Lauren smiled back scrutinizing his scruffier than usual appearance and looking into his eyes searchingly as she handed over her carry-on.

"This it?" Greg asked hefting the bag over his shoulder heading towards the exit.

"Yep," Lauren responded falling into step with him. Observing his profile after stuffing her hands into her pockets, she queried, "So, what's up, Greg? Why the sudden need to see me?"

Greg remained quiet for a few moments. His grip tightened on the bag strap. "We'll talk later. You hungry?" he asked as they made their way to the parking lot.

She nodded her head, and her right hand came up to pat her stomach as she responded, "Yeah, I'm starving." She added with a smirk, "And you're buying."

* * *

"Fuck, Greg." Lauren expelled disbelievingly. She leaned back on the couch shocked cradling her second beer in her hands. She had finished the bottle quickly as though it would somehow help her understand. She tried to respond again, "This is . . . I mean- this is wow."

Greg said nothing. He simply continued to sip the warm amber liquid from his glass and stared sadly at his friend.

"How could you do this to Lisa?" she asked after awhile placing the empty beer bottle on the table.

"I don't know. Honestly, I don't," he grappled for the words, "It just happened. We haven't seen each other for months. Hell! The last time I saw her was over five months ago, not counting when I told her. We haven't lived together for three years now." Disgusted by his excuses, he trailed off as he fixated on the liquor in his glass. Finally, he whispered again, "It just happened. I haven't done anything that's true 'adultery', but . . ."

Lauren looked over at him and answered softly for him, "But you wanted to." He didn't respond; she took his silence as an admission of guilt.

"Well, whose fault is it that you aren't together? You haven't been able to keep a job in the same place in... God, how long has it been?" she ranted before continuing in a more gentle tone, "I mean you've never been the most stable person, but this is insane even for you. I don't know what to say. I love Lisa, and I love you. I love you both and want you both to be happy. I mean . . ." She paused looking at him intently, "Are you happy, Greg? Does this Stacy person make you happy?" She leaned in towards him a little and continued to study his face hoping to find some answer.

He finished his drink saying nothing and gestured towards her bottle. Heading towards the kitchen, he asked. "Do you want another?"

Lauren sighed thinking that he evaded the question. She called out in the direction that he had gone, "Sure."

He returned with two bottles that he set in front of her and refilled his glass from the open bottle of Scotch on the coffee table. Before taking a sip, he replied, "No. No, I'm not happy."

"Then, why are you doing it?" she asked perplexed.

"I . . . it's like a puzzle. I've never wanted anyone else since I met Lisa. Yet, here was this woman, and I found myself attracted to her. She was interested in me, and I wanted to know why. Then, all of a sudden I was in over my head," he tried to explain and then stumbled, "I can't . . . I don't love her, Lauren. I know that; she's not Lisa. I don't want her to be, but there's something there."

"How is Lisa taking it?" Lauren asked him. Her voice filled with honest concern for her other friend.

"Don't know. We haven't talked since I told her three months ago. I still send my half of the mortgage. The checks still get cashed. She still sends me her monthly schedule. Everything is just how it always was. It's another piece of the puzzle," he mused taking another swig from his glass.

"Why do you say that? How is that another piece of the puzzle?" she asked him curiously as she started her third beer.

"Three months ago, I told my wife that I met someone else, but nothing has changed," he emphasized the strangeness of the arrangement, "Nothing is different about my fucking marriage except for the fact that I don't speak to my wife anymore. I tell my wife that I'm seeing another fucking woman while I'm married, and she acts like nothing has changed. It's a puzzle, Lauren. I just can't figure out why Lisa doesn't care. Why doesn't she punish me or send the divorce papers? If she wants to stay together, why haven't we tried to fix it? Hell, I don't know if we even can or should." He sighed deeply. Putting his drink down, he slumped into the couch and stared at the wall across from them.

"Here's my advice since you obviously flew me out here for it," she started with a wry smile, "I think that you should dump your 'girlfriend' and focus on this marriage puzzle. Lisa is the best thing that's ever happened to you. I've known you forever, and you aren't going to find that happiness with anyone else. You'll end up regretting it if you throw away what you guys have because, as much as I love you, she could find a better man. If you let her go, you may not ever get her back." Placing her hand on his knee, she gave it a squeeze before grabbing the empty beer bottles to take them into the kitchen.

"I know," Greg whispered to the empty room closing his eyes and covering his face with his hands.

_**

* * *

**_

_**May 24, 1997**_

"Are we seriously playing golf?" Lauren asked for the millionth time as she lined up her shot at the eighth tee.

"Yes!" Greg responded rolling his eyes as he twirled his club. Planting it in the ground, he balanced his weight on it as he watched her complete her swing.

"Damn it!" Lauren exclaimed watching the ball fall several yards outside of the fairway.

Greg chuckled at her stepping up and bending over to place his ball on the tee. He pointed his club out towards the far reaches of the fairway, a la Babe Ruth. Out of the blue, he felt a horribly painful spasm in his right thigh.

He dropped the club clutching frantically at his right leg as an anguished breath escaped his lips. Lauren rushed over to him placing one hand on his back. As she bent forward, she asked him what was wrong. He managed to grunt out the word hospital and allowed her to help him back to the golf cart.

Lisa was in the middle of an emergency board meeting that had interrupted her weekend when her pager began to vibrate. She reached down and unclipped it. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she read the number on the screen preceded by a 911 tag. It was a Connecticut area code.

Her heart clenched at the thought that something had happened to Greg. Making her apologies, she excused herself from the meeting and rushed to her office. She punched the numbers on the pager screen into the phone's keypad and anxiously waited through several rings before it was answered.

"Hello," spoke a familiar voice on the other end of the line.

"Lauren?" Lisa asked unsure if she was hearing correctly. Her confusion and anxiety were growing.

"Lisa! You got my page? That was fast. I . . . it's Greg. You need to get here as soon as possible. I mean . . . he's okay right now, but we don't know what's wrong with him. He's been admitted to the hospital," she trailed off remembering the current state of their marriage.

"Oh, my God!" Lisa gasped feeling her heart start to race. She fumbled, "I will . . . I'm coming. I'll be there as soon as I can. Just . . . please page me if anything happens." She instructed. After she finished, her mind was already clearing her schedule while she decided whether she should take the train or drive.

"Okay. If anything changes, I promise I'll page you," Lauren responded pausing briefly before she hesitantly went on, "He asked for you. He's in a lot of pain, but the whole time he asked for you and before they put him out..."

It was the way she said it that alerted Lisa that Lauren knew about her and Greg's estrangement. She was trying to reassure her that . . . she didn't know what she was trying to reassure her of exactly. It actually hurt to know that he was asking for her; it hurt even more that after what he put her through she didn't even think not to come.

Lisa steeled herself with a soft intake of air and in a tone devoid of emotion stated, "Thanks. I'll call you when I know when I'm getting there. Is this number good?"

"Yeah, this is the phone in his room. The number is 2210. I'll see you when you get here," Lauren finished holding the phone to her ear for several moments before cutting the connection in face of the silence from the other end.

Lauren sat in the chair next to Greg listening absently to the monitors and waited on Lisa to arrive. Lisa called a little over three hours ago to say that she would drive since the next train left in the early evening. She should be there around half past four. According to the clock, it was a quarter past the hour, so she wouldn't have to wait much longer.

Lauren was lost in introspection about her oldest friend when she registered a light tapping on the door. She looked over her shoulder taking in the sight of a tall brunette in jeans and a lavender button-up. She stood in the doorway; her posture strained.

Lauren knew immediately that it was Stacy. At once, she felt caught. She didn't want to invite her into the room in deference to Lisa, but she knew that this woman had some claim to Greg. In many ways, he had risked his marriage for her.

Several moments passed. Finally, Lauren spoke, "He's okay. Well, he's not entirely okay otherwise he wouldn't be here. We don't know what's wrong with him yet. When he wakes up, I'll tell him you came. You can't stay. His wife will be here soon, and she doesn't deserve this." She paused "Though, neither do you." Her tone wasn't unfriendly, but it wasn't welcoming either.

As Stacy listened to the blonde, her demeanor noticeably relaxed. She had never seen any pictures of Lisa, and they never really talked about her. So, she wasn't sure if this woman was or wasn't his wife. After one of the nurses, who was her friend, called her to inform her that Greg was admitted, she came to see him wanting to see that he was okay.

Nodding her head in comprehension, she stepped into the room coming to a stop at the end of his bed. She said, "I understand. I know what you must think of me, but it's not like that. I've never done anything like this before. We haven't done anything...He's just . . ."

Taking in a deep breathe, she reached out to touch his foot. She closed her eyes. Her free hand reached to the crucifix around her neck as she said a silent prayer. Stacy stepped back from the bed pausing briefly with her back to the other woman. Before making her way out of the room, she paused and whispered over her shoulder, "Thank you."

When Greg woke up, the pain remained. It wasn't the same blood curdling pain that had taken him down on the golf course, but it was enough to have him reaching his hand down to massage his thigh. Disoriented by unfamiliar surroundings, the feeling was exacerbated by the disinfected smell of hospital, which he never quite grew accustomed to.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim fluorescent light, he made out the shape of Lauren sleeping in the chair to the right of his bed. Looking around, his heart sunk when there was no sign of Lisa. There was just another empty chair, the usual sound of monitors beeping his vitals, and a round clock on the wall opposite. It was nearing one in the morning.

His last thought, before succumbing to the drugs that numbed the abject pain, was that he wanted Lisa. He remembered asking for her several times during the ride to the hospital and before they drugged him knocking him out. The scans had revealed no apparent cause for his pain. Tugging at the nasal cannula delivering him oxygen, he turned towards the door when it swung open.

Lisa walked in wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and a grey hoodie. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Her head was down as she focused on not spilling the contents of the styrofoam cup that she was holding.

After a few steps, Lisa sensed the change in the energy of the room. Her head shot up, and her gaze immediately zeroed on the bed. Her entire body allowed the tension, which had been holding her together, to relax when she saw Greg awake. She was concerned to see him rubbing his thigh and tugging at the nasal cannula.

Finishing her route, she came to a halt at his bedside, and placed the coffee on the nightstand. Pulling his hand away from the oxygen tube, she reprimanded, "What are you doing?"

"You came," he stated. His hand covered hers in an unrelenting grip as he stared up at her in relief.

She squeezed his hand. Her eye contact never faltered as she replied in a tone that wouldn't allow him to question that she would ever do otherwise, "Of course, I did."

_**

* * *

**_

_**May 26, 1997**_

The next two days passed in a blur of tests and no diagnosis. Lauren was called back to Baltimore. A patient of hers was not responding well to their chemotherapy regime, and she could not stay any longer.

Greg coded midday while Lisa was showering at his apartment. She was wrapped in a towel searching for a t-shirt to wear in his bureau, when she got the call. Donning the first shirt that her hand touched, she pulled on her pants before making her way back to the hospital.

While stopped at a red light, she looked down and noticed she had on Greg's Rolling Stones t-shirt. It was one of his most prized possessions, and he had only let her wear it once during all their time together. The realisation caused tears to pour down her face.

Later that evening, Greg diagnosed his infarction and demanded an MRI to confirm. Within the hour, his diagnosis was proven correct. His attending recommended that they amputate. Greg threw the pink plastic water jug at him and screamed at him to go fuck himself. He'd be damned if they took his leg. Nobody would take his leg.

Lisa tried to reason with him, but he wouldn't budge. Instead, he suggested that they do a bypass to remove the clot, put him in a coma, and let him ride out the worst of the pain. The room was silent. No one wanted to acknowledge this idea because it was clear that it would certainly end in his death. The risks were just too high.

The lead attending suggested that they could remove the dead muscle surgically to save the leg. House would still have the leg. He might need pain medication, but he could probably regain most of his function with physical therapy.

Lisa urged him to consider this middle ground. She didn't want him to die. He shot her down convinced his idea was the best course. They had no choice but to do something soon, or the muscle death would spread. The hospital had him sign release papers freeing them of the liability and attesting to the fact that the procedure was done against medical advice.

The last thing he remembered before succumbing to the drugs was Lisa's warm lips against his whispering 'I love you'. He smiled back weakly saying the same as his hands ran over her face, his fingertips tracing ever feature as though memorizing her.

The procedure was dangerous, and Lisa had not agreed with it. She sat by his side for a day watching him lay in the bed lifeless. There was no improvement, and the most recent scans showed that the dead tissue was spreading throughout his thigh. If it continued, it was likely that it would kill him.

At the beginning of the second day, Lisa gave up. She asked to exercise her right as his medical proxy and approved the surgery to cut out the dead muscle from his thigh. She was tired, worn out, and scared at how he would react when he woke up, terrified actually. But she had to make sure he woke up.

She felt absolutely alone. It would have been no comfort at all to know that she wasn't.

* * *

The request made its way to Stacy's desk to be written up. She cried as she prepared the papers. A sense of relief that he wasn't going to die washed over her body and out of her eyes in a steady stream of tears.

She didn't envy the woman that was going to deal with the aftermath. Though she had only known him for a short time, she understood the magnitude of the consequences this decision would have for the still unknown Lisa. Her heart hurt for them both as she signed her name notarizing the documents.


	8. Chapter 7

_**Two Years Later, October 1999**_

House sat in a chair on the balcony adjoining his office to Wilson's. His legs were propped up on a planter, and he had spent the last fifteen minutes throwing pebbles at the oncologist's glass door. It was the longest Wilson had ever held out, and it probably had something to do with him ruining Julie's dinner party last night. Really, she was the one to blame; she had blatantly not invited him provoking him to act the way he did. She had been, unsurprisingly, livid when he showed up and crashed her party. The WASP in her, however, would not allow her to kick him out. Thus, the evening was noticeably tense and unpleasant; emotions which were exacerbated by House's incorrigible false cheerfulness.

Thirty seven pebbles later, Wilson finally burst through the door. His hand immediately went to his hip as he pinned House with a glare. In a frustrated rant, he demanded, "What? What do you want now? I already paid for your lunch, and you've interrupted two consults. Don't you have a case?"

"The cottages are running tests," House replied, "I was testing a theory. How many pebbles does it take to get to the center of a Wilson? In case, you're wondering it took one hundred fifty-seven pebbles to get you to storm through that door."

Wilson rolled his eyes and shook his head. Pacing across the balcony, he exclaimed punctuating each point with his hand, "Seriously, House, if you don't give me some time today . . . You- what you did last night . . . I had to endure the aftermath of your mess with Julie last night!"

"If you had just invited me in the first place, then I could have nicely declined your invitation. Since you didn't . . ." House shrugged.

Wilson's hands ran erratically through his hair as he shook his head deciding not to respond to that statement. Crossing his arms over his chest, Wilson looked at him thoughtfully, "Look, I need to get some work done, and I have a department head meeting to attend tonight. How you've managed to never show up for any of those meetings over the last two years, I don't know. Cuddy has everyone on a pretty tight leash. It makes sense since she's young. Plus it's only her first year, so she has a lot to prove. Yet, Dean Cain was a real hardass and he never made you come either."

"Maybe that's because one night I made him come . . ." House deflected since he felt slightly uncomfortable talking to anyone about Cuddy. "It's in my contract," he admitted.

Wilson scoffed, "It still doesn't explain why Cuddy let's you miss the meetings. There is no way a woman like that would have anything to do with you. Knowing you, if there's anything you would have negotiated in your contract, it would have been no clinic, not skipping a department head meeting once a month."

House pinned Wilson with a dirty look after his comment about Cuddy being too good for him, but he clenched his jaw stopping a retort about having been there and done that.

"Well, it's been fun, House, but I have to get some work done," Wilson sighed looking down at his watch. He pointed over his shoulder and turned to head back into his office.

House nodded his head at Wilson and watched as his friend returned to his office. Taking his legs down from the planter, he reached for his cane positioning it at his side. Pushing himself up, he went back into his own office to await the return of his minions.

_**

* * *

**_

_**November 1999**_

It was the day after Thanksgiving. House lay in his bed absently fingering the ring that remained on his left hand. Though they had been estranged for two years, he always found himself thinking about their relationship during the week leading up to their anniversary. He closed his eyes and pursed his mouth as he thought back over the past two years.

He had come to terms with his leg last year. He had forgiven Lisa, though he never told her, but he would never forget. He would not forget that she went against his wishes, nor would he forget the three month sabbatical that she took to take care of him.

_He had done his best to punish her every single day of her self-inflicted servitude. He refused to do his physical therapy spewing vitriol at her every moment that she forced him to exercise. When he was not accosting her with his anger, he gave her the silent treatment. A part of him knew that some of his anger was due to the fact that she was seeing him at his worst – less than a man, unable to take care of his own basic needs. She was stubborn though, and he had not been able to push her away. She stuck out the three months and told him in the end that she had to go back to work – she just could not take anymore time off._

_At that point, he had to make a choice. He could either come back to Princeton with her. Or, she could get him a nurse to check on him weekly, so that he could continue living in Connecticut and work on getting his job back. He knew immediately that he would go with her – there was nothing for him in Connecticut – but he simply stared at her silently before getting up and limping out of the room. He quietly made arrangements to get out of his lease and looked into several apartments in Princeton. He decided on one not too far from the two hospitals and about fifteen minutes from Lisa's home. He arranged for movers to pack and transport his stuff. Lisa didn't say anything when they arrived the day before she was due to depart. She let them in instructing them not to load her suitcases and to leave one for him._

_The next morning, they got up early and loaded the car – not speaking a single word to each other. He was not surprised when she drove him directly to his new apartment building. She helped him take his bags from the car into the building. Once he was situated in the empty apartment, she pulled him into a hug. He clung onto her with his cane pressing into her side._

_"I'm sorry," quietly slipped from his lip and breathed out against her neck. She squeezed him tighter in acknowledgement. Stepping back, she nodded her head as she looked up at him. She kissed him briefly caressing his face with both of her hands before stepping out of his embrace. She left._

_A few months later, Dean Cain showed up at his door and offered him a position as the head of the Diagnostics Department that he wished to create before he left Princeton Plainsboro. He left an offer letter and his business card on the coffee table instructing House to call him when he had made his decision._

_Greg left the papers untouched on his table for a week. Finally, he picked them up and looked through them. It was a compelling offer, but he could not accept without talking to Lisa first. He had not seen her since the day she left him at his apartment. During the first month, she checked on him via phone once a week. After that, he started to avoid picking up and let her calls go to the answering machine. Finally, she stopped calling altogether._

_He called her that afternoon and asked her to come over after work. She agreed, seemingly unsurprised to hear from him. When she showed up at his apartment, she did not stay long. She told him that she only came to tell him to take the job and that she was okay with him working at PPTH._

_The Dean had already approached her. They were in different departments and would rarely see each other, if at all – she requested that it be stipulated that the Head of Diagnostics not attend the monthly department heads meetings. The Dean agreed. They knew that House's absence would be accepted due to his reputation._

_Of course, she was right. It was several weeks before he laid eyes on her at the hospital. He rounded the corner leaving the cafeteria with Wilson when he spotted her heading in his direction. Her head was down while she read a file. She didn't even notice him. He averted his gaze and continued past her as if he did not know her at all._

_That changed a few months later when she was named the successor for the current Dean. Since the Diagnostics Department was so new, it was still under the direct oversight of the Dean of Medicine. Soon, he knew that he would no longer be able to avoid her. During her transition, Cuddy conducted several meetings with each of the department heads. He often caught her staring at his left hand when they were alone. She had stopped wearing her ring. Unable to pinpoint exactly when, he noticed the slight discoloration on her ring finger at the dinner, where she was officially introduced as the acting Dean. She looked away uncomfortable when he noticed it. It had happened when he reached to shake her hand and offer his congratulations._

When she became Dean of Medicine, they were put in each other's orbits, again. Somehow, though, they worked out a system of communication that involved minimal interaction between the two of them. She mainly funneled things through his team while he generally avoided her at all costs except when they argued over risky procedures, clinic duty, or people threatening to sue him.

It was easier to ignore any feelings they had for each other when they rarely saw each other – out of sight, out of mind. Recently, things had changed even more, especially for House. Since he no longer carried around his old bitterness and anger towards her, he found himself staring towards her office when he was in the clinic or refusing to use his team to run interference – wanting to put himself in the line of fire.

One day, as he was perched above her watching from the balcony he realized that he missed her and he was self medicating by doing whatever he could to be around her more. He could tell that she was just as confused by his renewed desire to be in her personal space as he was – he would catch her giving him contemplative looks, even more so this week. He guessed that it was because their upcoming anniversary was on her mind as well.


	9. Chapter 8

_**January 2000**_

Cuddy pulled her scarf tighter around her neck as she walked towards the hospital. It was a Saturday, and she had come in to catch up on some of the fiscal issues for the New Year. She also had to review the budgets submitted by the various departments. She walked through the lobby smiling at the receptionist as she stopped to sign in and collect her messages.

In her office, she booted up her computer and left to get some coffee from the cafeteria. When she returned, she logged in briefly looking through her email. Then she checked her voicemail, returning one of the phone calls before starting on the budgets.

Several hours passed when she got into the budget for the Diagnostics Department. Surprised, she sat her pen down; House was never on top of his paperwork. But, he had been acting weird lately. He seemed to be around more often, and he did not send his team for her signature.

The strangest change was that he completed most of his clinic hours. Initially, she wrote it off as paranoia. Around their anniversary last year, she started thinking about where they would have been if they were still together. They sort of planned to have a child, and she realized that she still wanted to have a baby after thinking about it over the past few months.

Surprisingly, she still wanted House to be the father of her child despite everything that happened between them. They officially separated when they moved back to Princeton. However, neither one had filed for divorce. She supposed that he had not for the same reason as her; she still loved him. She had accepted that maybe that was not enough. She figured his renewed interest was just karma – she was putting too much energy out there, and he was always intrigued by a puzzle so he was picking up on it.

Cuddy was brought out of her reverie by a light taping on her door. She looked up and waved in Brenda. She rolled her eyes at the other woman, knowing that she was just coming in to tell her to go home.

_**

* * *

**_

_**February 2000**_

House sat in his darkened office absently rolling his oversized red and grey tennis ball between his hands. As he stared up at the ceiling, he was trying to figure out his latest case. The patient had gone into cardiac arrest about fifteen minutes ago. The cottages were off running more tests to figure out what caused it. He had just closed his eyes when he heard his office door open. Soon after, the scent of Cuddy's perfume filled the room.

Cuddy entered the office coming to a halt beside the chair that House lounged in. Contemplating him, she waited for him to acknowledge her presence. When he finally opened his eyes, she spoke quietly, "How's the patient? I got paged that she went into cardiac arrest."

House looked at her struck by how fragile she seemed in the glow of the security lights. He answered, "She's alive for the moment at least."

She nodded her head, studying his clothes before asking, "You had that shirt on yesterday. Have you been home, House?"

He smiled slightly, "Nice to know that the Dean of Medicine is keeping tabs on my wardrobe." He joked before setting his ball to the side and pushing himself into a seated position.

"I don't keep tabs on your wardrobe." She dismissed, "It's just that shirt... Nevermind." She stopped herself before she revealed to him that she remembered that shirt because he had worn it his first day at PPTH. He had not seen her, but she had known he would be in HR for the first couple of hours and had made a point of walking by there knowing she would be able to get a glimpse of him through the glass panes.

"This shirt...what?" He asked lifting his brow expectantly.

"It's a nice shirt. The blue... brings out your eyes." She offered lamely.

House chuckled at her obvious lie, but let it go. He was in the process of standing up when, what she said caused something to click in his brain. He froze, staring off into space for several seconds, before springing into action. "I gotta go stop my kids from killing my patient." He leaned over to grab his cane and rushed out of the room.

He was in such a hurry that though he noticed Cuddy's intake of breathe when he said 'my kids', he did not have time to process it. She recovered quickly, giving him a soft smile as he left the office, and taking in a deep breath before leaving herself.

_**

* * *

**_

_**March 2000**_

It was an unusually warm day, signaling the approach of spring, and the Clinic was swamped with patients trying to get out of work. They were just the kind of people House loved to toy with. He walked up to the counter, reaching for his next file and calling the last name. His eyes settled on the buxom redhead who stood up and headed in his direction, immediately he thought to himself he was going to need to call Wilson for a consult.

At the same moment, Cuddy came out of her office to hand over some papers she had signed. She knew the look on House's face and followed his line of vision, scoffing internally when she saw the woman headed in his direction. For some reason, she felt a little green monster rear its head and stepped over to House taking the chart from him.

"Thank you, Dr. House. You've been here for several hours, and I just started my shift so why don't you let me get this while you take a break?" She informed him sweetly, directing the woman to exam room three as she raised a brow at him challengingly.

House was a little shocked by her actions, but after a moment he just grinned at her. "No problem boss, whatever you say." He smirked, leaning into the counter and reaching over to rifle through the jar of candy.

He was in the same spot licking a red sucker, when she exited the exam room fifteen minutes later. She handed off some vials to be sent to the lab and spoke to the patient briefly before sending her back to the waiting room. Pointedly ignoring House, she made some notations to the chart and filed it accordingly.

Still ignoring him, she brushed past him and walked back into her office. She was not at all surprised when he came through her door a few moments later.

"Is my break over Boss?" House enquired, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb towards the clinic as he took a seat in the chair in front of her desk.

"It wouldn't seem so." She retorted looking at him pointedly before turning her attention to the papers on her desk.

House sat watching her work for several minutes. Something was going on with them. He was not sure what it was, but he thought he liked where it might be going. He took a long smacking suck on his sucker before crunching down on the last bit of hard candy. Cuddy looked at him petulantly, watching as he pushed himself up out of the seat, her look turning apprehensive as he placed his hands on her desk and leaned towards her.

He saw her tense as he leaned towards her and that only widened his grin. He tucked the paper stick from his sucker in his jaw and whispered conspiratorially towards her, "She may have had you beat up top, but more doesn't equal better. And even though it's been awhile, I still remember the pleasure of your top and your bottom." He paused, his eyes glancing over her form fitting blouse with a modest neckline before continuing, "Which makes you tops in my book any day of the week" He winked at her relishing her flushed appearance and turned, picking up his cane and existing her office with a satisfied smile on his face.

_**

* * *

April 2000**_

The hospital was winding down for the night. Soon the overnight shift would come on. Visiting hours had ended awhile ago so the halls were empty and quiet. House had just sent his team home for the night, knowing there was nothing they could do except wait on the results of the latest round of tests. Sitting in the Diagnostic's conference room he stared at the symptom list on the white board. The fatigue from the past few days caught up with him.

He rubbed at his eyes, and scrubbed his hand over his face deciding that he needed to head home as well. He gathered his things and made his way to the elevators. As he was crossing the lobby, he looked over and noticed that the lights in Cuddy's office were still on. He knew she kept late hours – she had done so even during the brief time that she had had him to come home too – so he was not surprised to see that she was still here. He stayed on his path towards the exit. At the last minute he detoured and found himself pushing his way through the doors into the Clinic and into her outer office.

He knocked lightly on the wooden door, so as not to startle her, standing in the entranceway until she looked up.

"Hey." he said.

"Hey." she replied lifting her hand and waving him in, "Is your patient okay?" She asked concerned that he was here to ask for a procedure.

House waved his hand, adjusting his bag and moving into the room. "Won't know until the morning; I sent the team home. I was heading out myself...saw your light..." He admitted awkwardly.

Cuddy motioned towards the papers on her desk, "Yeah. The paperwork never ends." She sat her pen down on the stack of documents in front of her and leaned back in her seat. Glancing at the clock on her computer, she closed her eyes and sighed. "I should probably head home too. I have an eight o'clock meeting that I can't miss."

House had been walking around her office, looking at the photos she had on her shelves and glancing at the various books and awards. He looked back over his shoulder and nodded at her when she mentioned leaving. "Did you eat?" He heard himself asking before he could stop himself.

Cuddy paused in the process of moving files into her satchel and looked up at him dumbfounded. Clearing her throat, she replied hesitatingly, "Umm... no, I didn't. I..." She trailed off wondering why he had asked.

"There's a diner about ten minutes from here..." He stated as though he was simply mentioning it in passing, but the way he looked at her she knew he was asking her to join him.

Cuddy held his gaze before looking away. She was not ready for this – this renewed proximity to him on a personal level - dealing with feelings that had been long ago buried. She finished packing up her things and moved towards the coat rack to retrieve her jacket. "House, I don't think that's a good idea. I'm... sorry."

He nodded his head in acceptance, making his way over to her. "It's okay, I'll walk you out." He offered, motioning towards her door. She led him out waiting on him to exit, and then shutting of the lights and looking the doors.

They quietly walked side by side out to the parking lot, reaching her car first. He bid her goodnight and she did the same, letting herself into her car as he waited and giving him a bittersweet smile before she pulled off into the night alone.

_**

* * *

**_

_**May 2000**_

It was a rare occasion that House ate lunch alone. Today, was one such occasion; Wilson was out of town at a week long couples retreat, Chase and Foreman were checking out the patient's home and Cameron was taking a history and running tests.

When he entered the cafeteria, his eyes immediately spotted Cuddy sitting alone in one of the corner booths near the back of the seating area with a stack of files and large salad that she was picking at.

He was not surprised to see her there. He had been thinking about her most of the week – her birthday was coming up in a few days. He figured since the opportunity presented itself, that he may as well take advantage of it.

He stepped into the line, ordering his usual and grabbing some drinks and he got a frozen yogurt with sprinkles, before making his way to the cashier. He shrugged at the shocked look she gave him when he handed over the money for his food,chuckling with her when she asked if he could blame her.

House lifted his tray and made his way over to Cuddy's booth. He hated that it was so public a place that he was doing this in, but he could not seem to stop himself. He set his tray down lightly and scooted into the booth, balancing his cane on the edge of the table and settling back into the cushions as he reached for his bottle of pop.

Cuddy looked up surprised, stopping mid-chew when someone slid into her booth. Her hand stilled over the salad and she furrowed her brows at the fact that it was House. She watched him as he took a drink from his bottle, and then began to dig into his food.

He acted as if it was perfectly normal for him to sit down and have lunch with her. After a few minutes, she remembered that Wilson had requested vacation for this week so his usual lunch date was unavailable. That did not really explain why he was joining her. Admittedly, something was happening between them, especially since that moment in her office after she went all possessive in the clinic. This was very public though. It was not really like him.

It soon became apparent that he was not going to say anything, so shrugged to herself and returned to her own lunch and the paperwork that she had brought with her. She had just signed the last document in the pile, when she sensed he was staring at her.

Looking up, she confirmed that it was true. She glanced at his tray before returning her eyes to his and saw that he had finished his entire meal, except for a small tub of ice cream with sprinkles. It was weird though because he hated sprinkles. In fact, he had always made fun of her when she had gotten them.

House watched her examining his tray. When she looked back up he reached over and lifted the dessert. Transferring it to her side of the table, he picked up a spoon from his tray and stuck it into the slightly melted ice cream.

"Happy Birthday, Lisa," he spoke.

His voice was soft, and there were a lot of emotions layered in it, mirroring the ones that crossed her face. It had been a long time since he had called her that. It was even longer since he had been around for her birthday. She smiled sadly at him in thanks.

"House," Cameron interrupted from beside the table, her gaze flickering questioningly between the two of them, "I tried to page you. Chase and Foreman found some weird molds in the patient's home, and they are on their way back now. The patient went into anaphylactic shock. I was able to stabilize him, but we need your help."

House was already out of his seat. Instantly, Cuddy's demeanor turned administrative as her posture stiffened listening to Cameron. She returned the glare that Cameron sent her way as the younger woman stood next to the table waiting on House to follow her out of the cafeteria.

_**

* * *

**_

_**June 2000**_

"What's up with you and Cuddy?" Wilson asked falling into step beside House as they headed towards the elevators.

House looked at him as he pressed the call button, "Nothing's up with me and Cuddy."

Wilson shook his head, "No something's definitely up. I heard that you had lunch with her a couple of weeks ago. You haven't had any arguments recently. not that I can think of." He pointed out, "There's definitely something different between the two of you. Since the beginning of the year, even... I don't know, but I'm not the only one to notice. The nurses are talking too."

House stepped into the elevator, frowning at his friend. He knew that he should not have sat down at her table, but her birthday was later that week. He had just wanted to let her know that he remembered.

Gathering his wits he finally replied, "Well, I'm telling you that there's nothing. If you spent less time 'talking' to the nurses and more time talking to your wife, then maybe you wouldn't be having problems with your third marriage."

Wilson bristled at the implication that he was cheating on his wife. Brushing it off, he pointed an accusing finger at house "Say whatever you want, deflect the conversation by trying to make this about me – whatever - but I know something is up with you two."

"Well you know what I _know_? I know that I'm tired of this conversation." House griped. Thankfully, the doors opened just as he finished speaking. He stepped out of the elevator ignoring Wilson's parting statement as he continued down the hall to his own office.

_**

* * *

**_

_**July 2000**_

On the fourth of July Lisa sat at one of the picnic tables in her Uncle's backyard watching her nieces and nephews and various neighborhood kids playing on the Slip-n-slide that had been set up on a sloping hill. She held the newest addition to the Cuddy clan, her cousin's daughter Ella on her lap. She bounced the baby gently as the almost one year old was enraptured by the sights and sounds around her.

Lisa's mother came up to her with a glass of lemonade setting it on the table. Running her hand through Ella's curly locks she smiled brightly at the baby before focusing her attention on her daughter.

"How are things at the hospital?" She asked, pulling up a seat next to Lisa and playing with the little girl in her daughter's lap.

"It's good and busy. I think I've finally adjusted to it; and everyone is certainly taking me more seriously now. It's been worth it. I love it." she relayed smiling as Ella giggled in response to the tickles her mother was applying to her tummy.

Her mother nodded her head, "How are you? Are you ready to have a personal life yet? Barbara's son Aaron, you remember Aaron? He is here this weekend. He lives in Cherry Hill, not too far from Princeton. I could introduce you." her mom offered eagerly.

Lisa smiled. It was nice that her mom still felt the need to set her up, but she just was not sure that she wanted it right now. Things were in a weird place with Greg and she still wanted to have a baby. She did not want to add a relationship to the mix. She insisted, "I'm fine Mom. I don't have time for a relationship right now."

"Well you're not getting any younger, so you might want to make time soon. I would like to be young enough to enjoy my grandkids." her mother countered.

Lisa rolled her eyes, "That guilt trip hasn't worked for years now, you know, since you already have grandkids" She hesitated for a brief moment, looking at the baby in her lap and then back at her mother. Then she confessed, "I've been thinking about having a baby."

Her mom looked at her surprised, "Really? I mean- I don't mean to sound shocked, but you haven't mentioned anyone since you and Greg..." she trailed off.

Her daughter's relationship with her estranged husband had become a taboo subject. It was obvious that her duaghter still had feelings for him. The fact that they had never divorced spoke to that, but she had always wondered if maybe something wasn't going on between them recently.

Greg had moved to Princeton and kept a job at the same hospital as Lisa for over two years, and that was certainly a feat for him. He had also come up a few times in recent conversations, but she had not pressed Lisa for more information. Going forward she would, though; she did not want to see her daughter hurt again.

"It's okay to be shocked; you should be. It's just something that's been on my mind this year. I'm thirty-three and I'm not getting younger. I'm ready." she told her mother, adjusting the little girl in her lap and leaning down to kiss the baby's cheek.

"Who do you expect to be the father?" her mother asked hesitantly.

Looking away briefly, Lisa returned her eyes to her mother's, "I don't know. I mean... I can't imagine it not being Greg, but I can't imagine asking him. We talked about it years ago– we both wanted to have kids. We're just..." Dismissively, she flicker her wrist and she said, "Well, you know."

Her mother sat quietly digesting what she had just heard. She was not as surprised as she probably should have been. Yet she did not know how she felt about it. On the one hand, while she and her husband had reservations about the age difference between Greg and their daughter as well as some of his personality traits, they had grown to like him and he had made Lisa happy for quiet sometime. He had, however, broken her heart too.

They had clearly been in love with each other, and she had imagined them giving her beautiful and unique grandchildren. She just was not sure whether encouraging her daughter to irrevocably tie herself to him through a child was in her best interest. "Well, you know what's best for you emotionally. I... Whatever you choose to do, I'll support you. I won't tell your father until you're ready." She promised reaching out and running her hand across Lisa's hair.

"Thanks for understanding. I'm just not sure yet, but I'm glad I can count on you." she said smiling at her mother and leaning into the comfort of her hand.

_**

* * *

**_

_**August 2000**_

She took the fact that there was an empty parking spot directly in front of his building as a good sign. After parking her car, she cut the ignition and sat with her hands on the wheel taking in a few deep calming breathes. It had been over a month since she had talked with her mother, and they had had a few conversations since then. Getting out of the car, she steeled her nerves.

Lisa had scheduled an appointment last week with her OB/GYN. After several tests, she was assured that she should have no trouble getting pregnant without any assistance. Though there was no history of needing fertility treatments in her family, she covered all of her bases before she proceeded to this next step. She wanted to be able to tell Greg exactly what he was going to be getting into.

Picking up the paper bag from the passenger seat, she locked the doors. Walking into the lobby of his building, she knocked soundly on his door and listened intently for some noise to indicate that he was coming. She expelled the breath that she was holding when she heard the muffled clomp of his cane as he neared the door. She knew he was looking through the peephole when it suddenly got quiet on the other side of the door. Then, she tensed up until she heard him throw the locks.

Greg was surprised to see Lisa standing on the other side of his door. Pulling the door open, he stepped out of the way for her to enter and shut the door behind her. Following her into the living room, he watched as she stood awkwardly holding a brown bag.

He was still in his pajamas, and his hair was sticking up in all directions. He yawned and lifted his hand to rub the sleep from his eyes. Looking at his watch, he noted that it was half past eleven. So, not too early, but no matter what the time, it was unusual for her to show up at his home.

"Umm . . . I need to make coffee. Do you want some?" He asked.

She extended the bag towards him. Automatically, he took it from her. She explained, "Actually, I brought you coffee, and a doughnut, a blueberry doughnut."

House just stood holding the bag and staring at her in confusion. Why was she bringing him coffee and donuts? What was going on? A number of worse case scenarios began firing through his head as he stood locked in place by the rush of fear that ran through him. He asked, "What's going on? Why are you here?"

"Nothing's going on. Nothing's wrong," she saw the tension that was evident in his stance and his voice, "Greg, whatever you're thinking, I promise you that it's not why I'm here." she said in an attempt to calm him down.

"I'm thinking that maybe you're here to fire me or something," he told her as his hand clenched fretfully on the handle of the cane by his side.

"What? No! No. I'm . . . I wouldn't come to your house to fire you," she replied as if that was the most ridiculous thing in the world.

"Oh. Okay." he said his body finally relaxing. "Well, why are you here then?" he asked his brow furrowed in confusion.

Lisa expelled her request in a jumble of words, "I want to have a baby, and I want you to be the father."

The bag fell from House's limp hand and landed on the floor with a thud.

_**

* * *

**_

_**September 2000**_

Three weeks had passed. After Lisa dropped her bombshell, she told him to think about it and let her know his decision. The following Monday, he went into her office and asked her if she was serious – part of him was convinced that it had been a hallucination or a dream – and she confirmed that she was. He avoided her since then.

While he avoided her presence physically, all he could think about was Lisa and having a child with her. They talked about having a family when they were together, but he was shocked that she still wanted to have a kid with him. He had not asked any questions, but he assumed that she was prepared to do this alone if he said no or bowed out after the birth. The problem was that he could not imagine any scenario where he wasn't a part of their child's life.

He called Lauren last night to get her perspective. Basically, she said that she would support whatever decision they made, but he needed to make it on his own. She encouraged him to really consider what it would mean to be a father and also what it would mean to Lisa – what expectations she would have for the kid and things that he had not really thought about like religious views.

Lauren was hesitant to bring up his relationship with his own father, but she did it in order to assure him that he was not that man. He was better than that. If he did decide that he wanted to have a kid with Lisa - whether they revived their own personal relationship or not - she thought he would make a great dad.

It was horribly complicated. He wanted to just tell Lisa yes, but he had been tentatively rebuilding some sort of relationship with her. He was not sure how this would fit in – would she think that he just wanted her again because she was having his kid? He figured that he had made her wait long enough; he knew his answer. They just needed to set some ground rules, but they could not do that until he answered her.

Grabbing his cane, he left his office and rushed off to the elevators. Quickly, he walked through the clinic and ignored her assistant. Entering her office, he closed the door behind him with a click.

She was on the phone when he entered. She looked at him expectantly making excuses to get off the phone while he settled into the chair across her desk. Putting his cane across his knees, he tapped it lightly as he returned her stare. She finally hung up the phone and gave Greg her full attention.

"Okay." He said, "Let's spawn."

"Are you sure?" She asked quietly.

He nodded his head in ascent, "Yeah."

Lisa cleared her throat, "There's a lot we need to discuss. I'm not free for the rest of the day, but why don't you come over to my place tonight?"

"What time will you be home?" He asked.

Lisa looked through her calendar with her finger running over her evening appointments. She finally answered, "I should be out of here by seven. I can call you when I'm leaving."

"Sounds like a plan," he replied smiling at her before getting up to leave.

He was almost at the door, but halted when she called his name, "House, thank you."

Greg did not know how to respond to that, so he did not. Inclining his head, he gave her another small smile before heading back up to his office.

* * *

Greg pulled into Lisa's driveway cutting the engine and headlights. The last time that he was here he had come to tell her about Stacy. That was so long ago, but he felt just as sick and anxious as he had that day.

Closing his eyes, he pulled his keys out of the ignition and palmed them. Slowly, he unclipped his seatbelt and got out of his car. Walking up the pathway, his gait tripped the motion sensor, which lit the porch as he came to a halt at her green door. Releasing a deep breathe, he reached out his free hand and rang the doorbell.

Lisa had just finished changing from her work clothes into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt when she heard the doorbell. Momentarily, she stilled but quickly finished dressing before heading to answer the front door. She closed her eyes, and her hands balled into tight fists as she took a couple of deep breaths to calm her nerves. Then, she unlocked and opened the door.

House stood on her porch. His hair was slightly windblown, and the collar of his jacket was turned up against the cool autumn air. His hands were stuffed in his pockets. He looked at her inclining his head towards her. She stepped back to let him in biting her bottom lip. While she locked the door, he hung up his coat. Then, he followed her into the kitchen; he was surprised that she did not to into the living room.

"Have you eaten?" she asked as she opened the refrigerator and surveyed its contents.

"Yeah, I wouldn't mind something to drink though," he informed her before taking a seat at the table. He hooked his cane onto the chair next to him.

She pulled out a plastic container of leftovers and placed it on the counter. Leaning back into the refrigerator, she offered, "Wine, water, or cranberry juice?"

"Water's fine," he responded.

Lisa pulled out the water jug and took a glass from the cabinet. She filled it up and set it in front of him. Then, she put the food on the counter into the microwave and pressed a few buttons to start it.

Greg watched her silently as she opened a drawer and took out silverware. Then, she pulled out a loaf from her bread box and cut a slice. The microwave beeped signaling her food was done. Lisa pulled out the container putting the bread on top and carried it to the table. Sitting across from Greg, she was completely starved and settled her appetite before turning her attention to him.

Greg firstly asked the thing that weighted heaviest in his mind, "How are we going to do this? I mean, we're not exactly in a relationship anymore, but I don't want to just impregnate you. I want to be a part of this, a part of our kid's life."

Lisa was a little surprised that this was his main concern and not whether they would be doing this the natural way. She wondered if he thought if his role in the life of any child they might have was what he most cared about. She explained, "It'll be unconventional. I want him or her to live with me. If you wanted weekends or certain days, I wouldn't keep you from that. Some financial support would be welcome. I . . . I just want you to do whatever you feel most comfortable doing as a father. I know you have some issues regarding your Dad, but I think you'll be a good dad, Greg."

"Okay. That seems fair to me," He conceded ignoring her statement about him being a good dad. His eyes drifted to his wedding ring, and he cleared his throat, "What are we going to tell people? I assume that we'll tell our families, but what about work? Our relationship isn't exactly common knowledge."

Lisa was prepared to answer this question, "I intend to tell my family the truth. My mom already knows that I want a baby and want you to be the father. As for work, I'm not sure how I want to deal with that. It depends on what we both want. We're both private about our personal lives. I hadn't planned on advertising that you are the father, but I'm not going to hide it if it's absolutely necessary."

"What is 'absolutely necessary'?" Greg wondered aloud.

"You will be the child's father. That's what the birth certificate will say. If anything happens to him or her medically, I would want you to make the decisions," she revealed. Her eyes held his as she asked him if he could handle being entrusted with that burden. He nodded before she continued, "There's also the matter of the last name."

He schooled his expression. While he would never admit that he was excited about the kid having his last name, he was not opposed to the idea giving the kid her last name. He licked his lips. Looking directly into her eyes, he spoke softly, "Whatever you decide, I will be fine with."

She had been with him long enough to read his tells, and she could see that this meant something to him. She had considered hyphenating the kid's last name, but his tempered reaction to the question made her decision for her. She told him, "I thought we could give the baby your last name if that's okay with you."

Despite his efforts to squash it, a smile broke out on his face. Reaching for his water, he took a lengthy drink in an attempt to cover his grin. Smiling behind his glass, he answered, "Whatever you want."

"Right, I can see you have no preference either way," she said rolling her eyes at him. With her tongue in her cheek, she teased, "So, I guess now there's just the matter of doing it, literally or not."

"There is that," Greg agreed, "If you just want me to make a donation, we can set an appointment at the bank."

"To be honest, I would rather do it naturally," he chagrined after a pause, "But I'm not sure we're at a place where that wouldn't be awkward. So, if that's how we are going to do it, then that I think we should probably date first."

Lisa had not expected that at all. After she took a couple of more bites of her meal, she processed what he was saying. She forgot how rational and quirkily traditional he could be. Ultimately, he was leaving the decision up to her. Things had shifted between them over the past couple of months. Yet, he was right. They were not in a place where they could just fall back into bed with each other and try to make a baby.

Glancing at the ring on his finger, all the memories that she shared with him flashed through her mind. She knew that they were working back towards something. In that moment, she decided to take a chance, again, not just for a baby, but on him. She asked casually, "I'm usually free on the weekends, and I make a point of leaving the hospital at five every Wednesday. Do one of those work for you?"

He had expected some teasing or a list the multitude of reasons why they shouldn't attempt to date. He had come up with a several counterarguments to convince her that dating was the best route. So, her easy acceptance took him by such surprise that he was speechless.

Waiting on him to respond, Lisa finally lifted a brow and chuckled at him. Standing up to clear her dishes, she spoke more specifically, "How about next Saturday? I'll get you the details sometime next week."

Greg finally regained his power of speech, "Saturday is good. Great but leave the planning to me. I'll let you know the specifics by Thursday."

She nodded in agreement. After expelling a breathe, she asked with a grin, "Okay. Well that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"It could have been worse," he admitted grinning back, "On that note, I think I'll head home. My boss is a real stickler for being on time." He twisted his mouth playfully. Getting up from his seat, his hand fingered the back of the chair before he became suddenly serious. Wistfully, he asked, "We're really doing this Lisa; we're going to have a kid."

She stepped away from the counter and took his hands in hers. Tilting her head back to look up at him, she confirmed, "Yeah. We're really doing this, Greg. We're really going to have a kid."

_**

* * *

**_

_**October 2000**_

"Run it again!" House shouted at Chase dismissively before pointing at Foreman. "I want you to go back to his home; these two idiots must have missed something. You need to go talk to the family, again. There has to be something that someone's not telling us." He bit out his frustration at Cameron.

The three fellows quickly scrambled out of the office to complete their tasks. They had been on the receiving end of his ire for the past couple of days, and none wanted to call more attention to their actions. It was a trying week for House. He was sure that his latest patient was hell bent on sabotaging his ability to solve the case and his first date with Lisa. The first couple of days were fine, but he knew that he would have to cancel if he did not figure out what was wrong with this guy as the weekend loomed close on Friday afternoon.

Leaning against the conference table, House stared at the white board when Wilson walked in. Coming to a halt nearby, he studied the symptoms on the board. Tilting his head, Wilson offered, "It could be an allergy."

"We already tested him, twice. It's has to be something environmental; there's something he's not telling us," House mused.

"Hmm," Wilson murmured thoughtfully, "So, what's brothering you? You've been a particular brand of bastard this week; yet, you've failed to bug me all week about my failing marriage or my imaginary affairs. Plus you haven't forced me out to buy you lunch. What gives?"

House gave Wilson an irked look, "Nothing. I'm a doctor. I have a case. This is a hospital. I doctor here."

"That never stopped you in the past, and your fellows are walking on eggshells around you," he restated his recent observations, "House, if there's something you want to talk about, I'm here for you."

He rolled his eyes sighing disgustedly, "You're such a chick, Wilson. Just so we are clear for now and the future, I don't want to talk about anything. I don't have any feelings to share, and I won't hold hands or paint your toenails. Now, leave me alone. I have work to do."

"I'm just being your friend. It's like the House that I know is on vacation, and he's been replaced by an even more sinister version. You can't keep yelling at," Wilson watched as a particular look came over House's face signaling that he just solved his case. Wilson watched as his friend left the room in a hurry. He told the empty room, "I'm only asking because I care."

* * *

Lisa had not been this nervous about a date since Tommy McGrath had asked her to the summer camp dance when she was twelve. She wound up French kissing Tommy outside her cabin and got caught by a counselor, who reprimanded them and sent Tommy rushing back to his cabin. Blushing at the memory, she smiled slightly to herself as she took one last look at herself in the mirror. Greg always liked her in red, so she wore a form fitting red top with a neckline that was immodest enough to hint at possibility. She paired it with a knee-length, flowing black skirt, a thin black belt, and a pair of strappy sandals.

She was happy with the result smoothing her hands over her skirt. Retouching her hair, she moved a stray curl back into place. She tried to convince herself that she should not feel so nervous, but it had been so long since she had been on a date. Hell, the last date she had been on was with Greg fourteen years ago.

However, it was not his last date. Remembering when he had admitted to going out with that Stacy woman, she frowned at her reflection pushing the memory away. That was a long time ago. Though she had not fully forgiven him for that transgression, she was glad that it had not progressed into anything substantial. Shaking off the memories, she left the bedroom to gather her purse, keys, and coat. Turning off most of the lights, she headed out the door.

They agreed to meet at a neutral location; it took away the pressure of him having to pick her up and left them both with a car. Not that they thought they might use the cars to escape, but it wasn't exactly a bad idea just in case.

Greg was already in front of the gallery when she pulled into the lot. Pacing back and forth at the entrance, he was wrapped up in a scarf and a long overcoat. She parked her car and swiftly made her way over so they could get inside.

When he spotted her, he smiled at her and opened the door to the gallery for her. After they checked their coats, he gave her an appreciative once over before he placed his hand on her lower back. He guided her to the bar area that was set up for the opening and bought an amaretto sour for him and a scotch for himself. Standing at his side, she took in his outfit, a black button-up covered with jacket and matching slacks. He also wore a silvery blue tie that set off his eyes. His hair was a bit mussed from the wind, and she couldn't help but smile at how adorable his red tipped nose was.

"Thank you," she said accepting the drink and twirling the straw in it before taking a sip. Walking towards the main gallery, she informed him, "I didn't have time to see what this show is about."

"Trust me. It's something you won't soon forget," Greg informed her with a mischievous grin.

She gave him a sideways glance furrowing her brow at the first oversized photograph. It took a second to register what it was, but she choked on the mouthful of her drink when it hit her.

"Are you okay?" Greg asked playfully pounding her back.

She grabbed him by his arm and dragged him over into a corner. It was thankfully art-free. Menacingly, she whispered, "Are you serious? This is your brilliant idea of a great first date?"

Greg chuckled, "I thought we could get some pointers."

Lisa smacked his arm. She huffed, "You are so juvenile. I can't believe that I trusted you to take this seriously. I mean it was your suggestion. I should just sleep with you to get it over with."

Greg's eyes grew wide at her admission, and his flush matched the one on her face. "Umm..." He stopped clearing his throat. Then, he apologized looking contritely at her, "Actually . . . I knew this exhibit was here, but it's not the exhibit that we're here to see. I just wanted to see your reaction. You're right; it was juvenile to trick you."

Lisa studied him to see if he was being sincere. She knew that this was not out of character for him. Looking around the gallery briefly, her eyes returned to his. She conceded, "I'm sorry. I overreacted a little. But seriously, Greg, the man in that picture was gagged, bent over, and had clamps on his balls."

Greg nodded and suggested, "Yeah, I don't think that one will help us achieve our specific goal, but maybe it's something you may want to keep in mind for future 'how to punish House' threats?"

She smiled at him rolling her eyes. She took his arm in her hand, again. Moving on, she proposed, "Okay. Where is the real exhibit that we're here to see? We can come back to this one later."

Greg sobered up, and Lisa noticed the stiffening of his posture. He warned, "I should warn you that the material is a sensitive subject. I've seen the photographer's work before, and it's powerful. I think that you'll appreciate it."

"Okay," Lisa said suspiciously, "What are the photos taken of?"

Greg was silent for a moment before he spoke quietly, "The pictures are before and after images of the Holocaust. The photographer took black and white originals that have been blown up to four foot by five foot. Then, he went back to the concentration camps and took photographs of the exact same image in color, also enlarging it. The images are shown side by side."

Lisa's steps faltered as she came to a stop beside him. She had lost family in the Holocaust. Though she was aware of that history, she was not often confronted with it. She was surprised that Greg would pick such a heavy exhibit for their first date, and she wondered what motivated him. She asked, "Why did you pick this exhibit?"

Greg shifted uncomfortably. He explained his reasoning, "Because . . . we never talked about it. This will be part of our child's history. I wanted you to know, even though I don't believe in God or any of that crap, I know that you do believe in something. I respect that you do and understand that you will want to teach that something to our kid. I just . . . wanted you to know that I'm still me. I'm going to tell our kid what I believe, but I'm not going to disrespect what you believe."

Her free hand lifted to her mouth as she closed her eyes covering up the sheen of tears. Sensing that Greg had moved closer to her, she felt his hand rubbing the nape of her neck. He looked down at her hoping that he had not upset her. He had given a lot of thought to coming to this exhibit and had almost changed his mind several times, but he needed to tell her this, in this way. It would show her how serious he was about having a child and a second chance.

After a few more moments, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. Lifting her hand towards him, she whispered a soft thank you as she pressed her hand lightly against his chest. Moving her hand to his elbow, she let him lead her to the next gallery.

* * *

"That was the worst movie I have ever seen," Greg declared slumping into the car seat and shutting the door.

"How do you really feel, Greg?" Lisa asked sarcastically rolling her eyes, "You know continuing to complain about it isn't the best way to get into my good graces, especially after that little display you put on in there."

"What? All I did was ask for my money back," he proclaimed his eyes widening in faux innocence.

Lisa didn't bother to respond; they both knew there was a lot more commotion than just asking for his money back. In fact, he requested it back yelling at the top of his lungs. Loudly, he argued with the manager giving away major plot points to passing moviegoers until he was offered free passes for a future showing. She was so embarrassed that she had walked away from the area lingering in the lobby to make sure that things did not escalate to the point where she would have to bail him out of jail.

"I should have known better than to let you plan tonight. The third dates are for getting (laid). That horridness that you just made me sit through was a complete mood killer," he grumbled.

Lisa gave him a dirty look. She informed him, "Bad movie or not. There will be no 'getting laid' as you so romantically put it."

"Ah ha! You admit that it was a bad movie," Greg exclaimed pointing an accusatory finger in her direction.

"It wasn't . . . what I expected based on the reviews I read," she hedged.

"I guess that's 'That movie was crap' in Cuddy speak," he said switching the radio station.

"Leave my radio alone," she slapped his hand away and pressed her first preset putting it back on the original station, "When you drive, you can control the music."

"Ow!" He pulled his hand back shaking the fingers. He whined, "That hurt!"

"Don't start," She directed him raising a stern brow until he closed his mouth in a childish pout.

They made the rest of the drive in contented silence. Since it was Sunday, they both had to be at work tomorrow. Both opted to have an early dinner and catch a seven o'clock movie. It was nearing ten when Lisa double-parked outside Greg's apartment building.

"I'd like to thank you for a lovely evening, but I can't." Greg teased unbuckling his seatbelt.

"It wasn't that bad," Lisa defended, "The dinner was delicious."

Greg grinned at her. He responded, "Can't argue with that, especially when you bent over to blow on your soup to cool it. "

A familiar awkwardness permeated throughout the car as it did at the end of their previous dates. Staring at each other for several moments, neither one wanted to make the first move. Finally, Lisa leaned towards Greg intending to give him a kiss on the cheek. Her hand gently cupped his other cheek. Greg misinterpreted the contact thinking that she was giving him the green light for a real kiss. As she closed the distance between them, he aligned his mouth with hers.

Lisa was taken aback by the kiss, especially by how familiar it felt. Soon, she shifted in her seat moving closer to him. Her mouth eagerly opened under his, and her tongue slid along his bottom lip encouraging him to open his own. As soon as he felt the warm wetness of her tongue, he parted his lips. His own tongue darted out to taste her.

Reaching across the console, he placed his hand on her waist rubbing the skin beneath her blouse. They broke apart briefly to take in air. An instant later, their mouths were refitted together. Lisa's hand tangled into his hair stroking his scalp. Then, her hand slid down and cupped the nape of his neck. She lightly bit her nails into his skin as the kiss ramped up a notch in intensity.

Greg let out a pleasured grunt sucking more forcefully at Lisa's tongue in response to the sting of her nails on the back of his neck. His hand shifted underneath her shirt. When his hand slid across the warm skin of her abdomen, Lisa moaned. Her stomach tensed at the contact. She moved closer to Greg only to be halted by her seatbelt.

Lisa groaned. The seatbelt reminded her that they sat in a parked car out in public. She slowed down the kiss and shifted back from him. Her hand slid down Greg's chest to push him back gently. Greg's lips were slightly shiny from the moisture of their kisses. His mouth twitched waiting for her kiss. When he opened his eyes, he stared at Lisa with a mixture of lust and confusion.

Lisa lightly stroked his chest while she cleared her throat to speak. When she spoke, her voice was tight with arousal. She joked, "Well, apparently we don't have to worry about that part of our relationship needing fixing."

Greg's hand tightened around her waist reflexively as he nodded his head in agreement. He agreed, "Nope, definitely not broken."

"Umm . . . well, I'll see you tomorrow," Lisa stated dropping her hand and shifting back into her seat.

"Yeah," Greg promised, "I'll be the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed doctor meeting you at the crack of dawn."

"Uh huh," Lisa agreed nodding her head at him.

Giving her one last look, Greg opened his door and hooked his cane onto the top of the door. Planting his hands partially on the roof, he pulled himself out of the car. Unhooking his cane, he leaned back down into the passenger's side. He gave her a two-fingered wave, "Nite."

"Goodnight, Greg," Lisa responded softly grinning at him.

He closed the door. Lisa waited until he was through the entrance before pulling away to head home.


	10. Chapter 9

_**November 24, 2000**_

It snowed fairly heavily the week of Thanksgiving. The remnants of the snowstorm were still on the highway during Lisa's drive back to Princeton from her parent's house. By this point, she had been on several dates with Greg; most of which had been planned by him. He, not surprisingly, had more free time on his hands to come up with things for them to do. Most of their dates had been pretty great – they found it easier to fall back into their old habits with each other than either of them had anticipated.

After their third date, the night usually ended with some form of make-out session or heavy petting. It always stopped well before they got too close to the bedroom, but it left them both wanting. That was not to say that there weren't some missteps along the way. One date had been cancelled because of an argument that they had at work. The argument left them both so angry that they did not want to spend the evening in each other's company.

As it had been the case for the past couple of years, November turned their thoughts to their anniversary. Greg asked if she wanted to plan something special for that night or if she would still be with her family. She usually made a long weekend of the holiday, but she decided to come back the Friday and spend the evening with him since things were progressing well.

They had agreed to meet at his place and stay in keeping the evening low key. There seemed to be an understanding between them that there was not going to be sex that evening – that would be ridiculously cheesy – but there was an expectation that it would be a recommitment of sorts.

When she finally pulled into a spot outside his apartment, it was a little over an hour later than she planned to arrive. She called him en route to let him know that she was not going to be on time. He told her that it was no problem since the plan was to order out, and he would just have a snack to tide him over until her arrival.

She got out of her car carrying the bag of leftovers that her mother sent with her for Greg. She swung her purse over her shoulder and shifted the bag of food to her other hand before locking the car. She walked up the familiar path to his home and let herself into the lobby scrubbing the bottom of her boots against the mat to get rid of the snow.

Greg opened his door a few moments after her knock stepping aside to let her in the apartment. Closing the door behind her, he lifted his brow as he pointed at the bag in her hand. Reaching out eagerly to remove the bag from her grasp, he said, "Please tell me that your mother sent a bag full of food for me, which I have no intention of sharing with you."

She made a face at him and responded, "I'm not going to tell you that. There are a couple of vegetarian dishes in there that my mother made specifically for me."

"Oh, well. Yeah, you can definitely have those, but the rest is mine." he countered opening the refrigerator and sticking the entire bag inside. He paused holding the refrigerator door open, "So, what do you want to order, or do you just want to reheat some of this stuff?"

"Whatever, I don't have a preference. It's entirely up to you," Lisa responded as she moved into the living room to settle on the couch.

"Leftovers it is," he declared pulling the bag out of the fridge. Setting the bag on the table, he pulled out the various containers. He called from the kitchen, "The movies are sitting on top of the TV. Pick one while I'm heating up the plates."

Lisa got up and walked over to the television. She looked at the movies and decided that she did not want to watch either one, so she set them back on the television. She made her way over to the piano. Greg had always been musical, but he always had guitars since none of their places really were large enough for a piano. She had seen this one in his apartment on the other occasions, but she had never asked him about it. Sitting down on the bench, she lifted up the cover and pressed a few of the keys as she really looked around his apartment for the first time.

It struck her for the first time that this place really was a physical manifestation of House. In the past, he had never put his personal stamp on any of his apartments. The walls stayed bare, and the furniture was nondescript stuff used for function. Obviously, he saw this place as a home and committed to staying here for the long term. The piano, mounted guitars and records, framed prints, endless shelves stuffed to the brim with journals and books, music, and videos were all small pieces of him.

Greg came out of the kitchen balancing a tray of food. He walked slowly into the living room and transferred the plates to the coffee table. Lowering the tray to his side, he turned his attention to Lisa sitting at his piano.

She looked up just as he lowered the tray. Her eyes met his and shifted to his left hand, "Why do you still wear your ring?"

To say he was startled would be an understatement. He stared at her dumbfounded for several seconds. His gaze shifted to his left hand, which he absently lifted, and turned it over to stare at his ring. He shook his head, "I guess it never occurred to me to take it off."

"Not even when I wasn't wearing mine, anymore?" she asked. Her voice was low as she bowed her head looking at her unadorned fingers.

He thought back to the night when he had first noticed that she wasn't wearing her ring anymore. It hurt to see the diminishing tan line on her empty ring finger, but it did not make him want to take his off in spite. "Our marriage never officially ended. I was angry with you for a long time, but I never fell out of love with you. So, no. Not even then," he admitted and asked suddenly curious, "Why did you stop wearing yours?"

She shifted on the piano bench moving her hands to her lap, "For lots of reasons. Our marriage had failed, and it was a constant reminder of that – of you. With my position as Dean, I would see you almost every day at work. I didn't need another reminder." She grinned wryly, "I also didn't want you to think that you still had some sway over me . . . that I still loved you, too. Though, in hindsight, I guess the fact that I never filed for divorce told you that."

Greg nodded his head in agreement. They shared a look that acknowledged that they neither filed for divorce for the same reason. Setting the tray on the coffee table, he walked over to the piano bench and motioned for Lisa to shift over. Then, he braced himself as he sat down next to her. The extra motions that he had to go through to do something as simple as sitting down called attention to his leg; he noticed Lisa's eyes fall to his right thigh. They had never talked about it. The constant yelling and snide remarks during his recovery definitely did not count. Placing his hands on the keys, he began idly playing a tune. He was not particularly ready to have this conversation; he probably never would be.

Keeping his head down focused on the keys, he finally absolved her, "When I woke up and realized what you had let them do to me, I was so angry with you. Once I was out of the hospital and saw the extent to which I was dependant on you that first month, it emasculated me. I felt like less of a man, and I hated you seeing me like that. I blamed you for every moment of pain, frustration, and embarrassment. I treated you like shit, and I purposely hurt you. At the time, I honestly believed you deserved it. I'm not proud to admit that, but it felt justified at the time."

He removed his left hand from the piano and grasped her right hand. Turning his body towards her, she lifted her free hand to wipe away the tears from her eyes. She continued to look down at her lap. Waiting for her to lift her face before he continued, he gulped when he saw the there. Then, he pleaded, "I'm sorry. Everything – and I mean everything - I said and did to you then; I did out of anger. I wanted to hurt you, so you would feel the pain that I was feeling." He closed his eyes ashamed that he could have been so spiteful and vindictive towards her.

"I forgave you a long time ago for my leg. I'm sorry that it's taken me all this time to tell you and to thank you for saving my life," he whispered. His grip on her hand tightened, and he felt a sense of relief flood him at finally telling her.

Lisa squeezed his hand wiping the tears from the tip of her nose and cheeks. She had felt so guilty for so long and carried around so much anguish during those months after the infarction. To hear him apologize and to acknowledge that she had not done anything wrong was emotionally overwhelming. She tugged her hand free from his to cover her face. Leaning forward with her elbows braced on the piano, the discordant sound echoed and mixed with her sobs as she let out all the years of pain and guilt.

Greg rubbed soothing circles on her back letting her cry. Resting his head on her shoulder, he continued to whisper apologies softly in her ear and confessed to her how much he did not deserve someone as wonderful as her. He assured her that he loved her and would understand if she could not forgive him.

Several minutes later, Lisa turned to him after her tears had subsided. Wrapping her arms around him, she mumbled into his neck that she had known what it would mean to sign those papers, but she had never regretted it because it meant he was still alive. She would have done the same even if he was not here with her and if they were not taking this second chance. All that mattered was that he was alive.

Greg ran his hand through her hair caressing it briefly before he pulled back and looked at her. Pushing a few hairs out of her face, he informed her, "You're a mess."

She rolled her eyes and gave him a watery smile. Her voice was still slightly stuffy sounding when she admonished him, "Shut up! I should probably go splash some water on my face."

"Yeah," Greg agreed, "There are some clean towels in the closet next to the bathroom. Should I reheat the food?"

Lisa stood up nodding when he told her about the towels. Her gaze shifted to the food at his question. She responded, "Not for me. I think that I'm actually going to lay down for a bit if that's okay."

It had been a very long hour. Suddenly, he felt drained himself. Looking up at her, he absently reached for her hand. He decided, "I'll put the food away and come join you."

"Okay," Lisa agreed pulling away from him. She picked up his cane and handed it to him and scooped up her purse before heading to the bathroom. By the time she rinsed her face, run a brush through her hair, and generally felt presentable, Greg was in his bedroom changing the sheets.

She lifted an eyebrow in curiosity. Stopping at the threshold and leaning on the doorjamb, she teased him gesturing at his current activity, "You do realize that you're not about to get lucky, right?"

"I'm not?" he asked trying to look innocent. A hand came up to his chest as he feigned shock, "Relax your libido. There will be no baby making tonight. I just can't remember the last time the sheets were changed, so I doing it now for your benefit."

"Ugh. You're definitely not getting lucky now," she retorted making a disgusted face. As she walked to the other side of the bed, she helped him put on the flat sheet and replaced the pillowcases on the pillows that were piled up on the floor.

Lisa climbed in on the right side of the bed and crawled to the center while waiting for Greg to get situated. Then, she snuggled up next to him. Resting her head in the crook of his neck, she breathed in his scent as she ran her hand over his chest. He pulled her in closer with one hand resting above his head and the other playing with her hair.

Turning his head to kiss the crown of her head, he suddenly remembered the day. He whispered into her hair, "Happy Anniversary, Lisa."

Wrapped her arm around him, she smiled against his chest before reaching in to kiss him. The kiss was meant to be playful, but Greg slid his hands into her hair holding her in place as he deepened the kiss. When he let her go for some much needed oxygen, she stared down at him. Braced on the bed beside him, she wet her lower lip biting it in contemplation.

"Do you think finding each other so irresistible that we couldn't wait until tomorrow to have each other cancels out the cheesiness of having sex for the first time again on our anniversary?" she wondered as she lifted a leg over to straddle him.

Greg moved his hands to her hips closing one eye as he feigned deep concentration. Tugging her towards him, he told her, "I can't find any fault in that logic."

"You never find a fault in the logic when it involves Little Greg," Lisa teased grinning at him as she slid her hands over his chest and let him pull her down to him. When her mouth met his, she closed her eyes and whispered against his lips, "Happy Anniversary, Greg," her teeth nipping at him and her body melding against his as they fell back over the edge and into the abyss.


End file.
